drop the sand off my head .. throw it
see what is not shown into the storefront
sleepwalking like , lost and late
dissected my self
i am in a bizarre situation
fearful from either living or death
this is the last round and also the last stop
i came to a dessert to see flourishing of spring flowers (Sardunya)
i like poets , the whole nights spent weeping
i am in a struggle
drained from inside
i do not look to the inner depth even of myself
fearful from either living or death
this is the last round and also the last stop