When told to hold a pen in order to write a poem,
The sacred feeling over the mountains asks who I am
In response, that being is water flowing with soul,
Carrying the pieces of rocks that will never stay cool
Initiate me with glance,
Fabricate me with one stance,
Litigate me to the divinity-sense,
Subjugate me along the ships of Pence
Whether a mountain or a bay in the horizon,
Love is a sword enabling one to have fights
No matter which day brings another season,
The world has already swum with your lights
Hold a pen, My Poetiwife
Have a seat by my life
Stick the bleeder-knife
The heart will only spell
And therefore will tell
"Life without is uniquely hell"
Written by the master of loneliness,
Okan EMANET
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