Saturday, 2 February 2013


I am missing something,
I imagine my work to be done
Not in smoke, but in colorful strokes,
In liberal way of existence
And I want to make it a space station,
Promising platform for aspiration,

But all my attempts are settled
Into compromise, in clogged force,
As if a heavy fog hovers over in my life,
Horizon is not seen,
The great blue line has lost its abundant race,
And I am moving into nothingness.

I am missing something,
My leg slips from intimation,
Fingers are not on my skin,
I cannot stare steadily over arousal,
Sounds of my love go beyond selection,
I am brought to the bottom of love.

I am missing something,
As a solo performer, I am dull,
As a touching man, I am cool,
I cannot put wit to my living pattern,
I put myself in neatly inside of solitude,
I am lost in the rigged sound of world.

My dream gets an axe-blow in echo of life,
And I do not understand the world. 

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