I'm going mad, there is no doubt.
children in my brain,
whose dreams are broken,
screaming in eternal silence,
wanting to find his relations
in the merry-go-round.
volcanos burn me inside,
their lavas slaying my emotions.
if all the things will be shuttered,
why volcanos and merry-go-round,
and the children mouths'
are open now?
madness still make me alive, there is no doubt...

september morning,
pavements are yellow,
bulbuls are separated.

seeing desert's hot,
i am burning steady,
my mouth is drought.

A piece of broken glass is in my heart.
It fall down from poor lamp.
Lamp's fire undergo,
Cause of the cold.
That feels it
Unlife!

I ask where I am now
To the God I like
And who is in my heart
And in my miserable life
You know somethings changed us
Hitting from high
In the middle of night
My picturesque love

When I looked away
I saw myself again
Symbols that I created
Has chose a new way

Actually all words is a little same,
And a little different.
It branch out like a tree,
And from its branch a new tree born,
And from new branch another tree...
That tree is our base,
It's words real meaning.
And we, humanity!
Changing their pure meaning.