With the same song on and on for a long time,
With a heart utterly away from each life's rhyme,
With the loads of tears dropping in a bleeding way,
With the awesome knife in my hand drawing my say,
With the heartache never to be seen on any x-ray,
I am bathing in the pool of tear-drop of my own
Handkerchiefs have had my eyes' blood flown
There is a kind of charge over my soul
I have deleted the mindfulness as a whole
Written by the master of loneliness,
Okan EMANET
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