I'm lost in what i can't revolve in your eyes
i read your secrets from your creation
i drown in its inspiration
creation unites the major of our identity.
i need always your visible and your unknown to still alive
beside the will of creation which the world kills.
your spectrum is set upat the altar of my cosmos
my dervishes arefloating around it.
i know i'm mad of metaphors
i'm poisoned by recycling reality worlds in my mind.
i don't owe anything except meanings
would you come close?
i sow my unexpressed in the distance
between your reading and between imagination.
what we inherited from the world?
everything that discard poetry and art.
i have an ability to get inspired from everything so i write to you now
your eyes are from the strain of light
it reflects by its formation and hollow the carving of occult meanings
it reflects the power of creation and recycling everything into cosmos
i don't owe anything except the way i see the things so i'm free of any fear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem