Between what can
and what cannot be achieved
is an eye
more than a retina.
They fear, they will dissolve
and the retina likes dissolving
in it, those,
who have traversed
even darker tunnels, aiming it
and it alone.
'The route is darker when
only the home is visible'
In front of its own beauty,
darkness is psychotic.
It does the real suicide,
enjoying a death,
killing its own breath
in the eyes of many
and it's even more psychotic
when it convinces them
of their surety to attain peace
after a crawling
of contractions, expansions
and self-triggered explosions.
Doors are limited.
They end right where they start,
in their very appearance.
If he sees the one door,
he will open it
inspite of it being pillarless,
abandoned in an oblivion
as he knows it well
he has called it a door
and he who really needs to travel
doesn't want
to address more
as no matter how big
the door of the eye is,
a door can only hold a room,
a single room.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem