Run away, child,
Don't let me in,
I'm a demon,
I'm a devil,
I'll teach you how to sin.

Run away, little son,
Don't look into my eyes,
They are black-blue, they are deadly,
And full of dangerous lies.

Run away, little daughter,
Before your mind I will slaughter,
My existence knows no love,
I was expelled from above.

You can never run away,
Your mind is my slave,
I will haunt you until you die,
Never to leave your side.

Run away, child.
While you're still alive.

Fall in love with a writer
they say and you will never die (quoted)

Fall in love with a writer
they say and you will find yourself
embodied in words

Fall in love with a writer
they say and you will find yourself
stretched over lines and pages

Now,

What if a writer falls in love with you?
What happens is that their untamed mind
becomes an asylum where
words smash themselves
on the walls of their brains
summoning
their hands just
to let them out

What if a writer falls in love with you?
What happens is that their addiction
to falling in love is amplified
and when they love
OH THEY LOVE,
they get a certain high
that numbs their inhibitions to reality
and shuns logic to a very far away land

they  reach a mental state
that lifts you to high enough
just to see a glimpse of their world
just to taste a drop of their
potion
but not all of it

What if a writer falls in love with you?
What happens is that their eye *****
birth and harness flames that burn the coldest
of hearts and warm the strongest
of selves

What if a writer falls in love with you?
What happens is that their mind soaks up
every bit, every breath
every call, every cell
every touch, every talk
just to embroider it
in the quilt of thought
that's weaving endless stories about you
in their mind

What if a writer falls in love with you?
God have mercy on their soul
for their craving becomes dangerously
intensified, wrapping itself
to their muses,
giving them the sole purpose
of existing

For the more they love
the more stories they write
and more they feel
the longer
they
live

You sit in a room that's dark,
It's silent, pitch black.
in hope of hiding from the chaotic tragedy of the world around you.

A creak in the floorboards due to the natural rotting of a beam that has stood for too long, becomes a demonic presence creeping towards you.
Your mind becomes the origin of paranoia itself.

What was once your home has become a prison,
Your own mind keeps you inside the walls of the voices that you hear and illusions that you see.

******* will do that to you,
But if they try hard enough, so can people.

People can drive you to the point where you see things where there's nothing but empty space,
And to a place where not even the moments before you fall asleep are silent.

A sewn up mouth to stop you from telling their secrets, you'll never unwind the truth that you live to anyone who could help.

Isolation will destroy you, eventually.

Blood like rain come down,
On the grave and the ground,
Universe is hostile,
So impersonal,
We must devour in order to survive.
Neither the brave nor the bold
Will write the story as it should be told,
I won't give a moment of silence until the blood is flowing.

Vicariously I live,
While my whole world dies.

I'm not farther from death than you are,
Tender leaf, slender branch.
We all live very close to it.
But my heart has been salvaged.
It's nearly off the map.

The heart doesn't reason this way  
In every man. It doesn't take wings
From its subterranean shell like this.
You are the stars of night,
You are the tree, a ballerina
Of grace. I'm the root.

Now you are exhausted.
You say your load was too heavy.
I forgave you, but you failed
To listen to me, drifting into your life
Of earnest foliage and birds' nests.

What were you saying to me,
To the one who always redeems
Fear has left you just skin and bones
Look: you are the one being tested
And tried. I am the root.

You close your windows feeling
Diminished,  belittled.
Your tiny world is fast disappearing
Into my immense space.

I don't know you well,
But I wasn't so crowded
Just a little bit earlier.
You're a bullet in the barrel,
An irrelevant splash.
I am the root.

The dead summoned their courage
And gathered to find arbitrarily, in one another
Love never seen before,
All-encompassing love without boundaries.

Maybe something will occur in the end
Your farewell imagined its own reality.
Your mouth said:
I am taking wings,
I'm contemplating.

I am a long and narrow road,
And will be closed down sooner or later.
I am the most disloyal traitor
To face your mask. Look now:
Your specter is lost inside me,
As if it had disappeared into a mirror.

You did this. You offered
thousands of lies to me
Instead of the truth. Death smiled
as a way to humiliate. I know
The earth. I am the root.



Koray Feyiz
(Translated from Turkish by Dr.Nesrin Eruysal & Prof.Dr. Kenneth Rosen)

I know the pieces fit because I watched them fall away.

Mildewed and smoldering. We are Fundamentally differing.

Pure intention against lustful feelings will set two lovers souls in motion.

Disintegrating as neither one of us can kiss each others lips.

The light that fueled our fire then has burned a hole between us.

We cannot seem to reach an end to our crippling  communication.

No fault,
There's  none to blame,
it doesn't mean I don't desire to Point the finger,
Or blame the other,
or to watch the temple topple over.
But I won't,
I'll take the blame,
I'll call it quits,
What's a game of Russian roulette if nobody wins?

the crack of ice beneath a footstep as light as a feather,
how thin the ice?


albino child,
******* daughter.
white hair, red eyes, outcast,
no one wants her.

she's graceful, and kind,
her beauty is fulfilling enough to curse you blind,
though who would see it?
no one wants a ******* daughter.

so she will grow alone,
and die alone,
no family to love,
no place to call home.

no funeral,
no burial,
no tombstone.

just death.