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Willow shade Oct 3
Though there is no physical reciprocity
and there are permanent, long distances,
you are becoming inside in an unfamiliar way,
even living myself completely down...

Not too anxious for such paranormal states
since I learned the influences of your stirring...
I know you are just growing inside again
leaving all emptiness silently away...

Leaning on the wet grass dreaming of you,
the sky is spread over before my eyes;
resembling you as receiving me with open arms,
reflecting your hair - as dark as night...

Something was born within, profound and new
as I made my sublime wish beneath shooting stars;
a couple of hearts beating inside in tandem
and I live everything twice upon a life...
Willow shade Jul 27
Ah, my Sun! You are still shining somewhere
Keeping the secret of lifetime seasons
You give light and reveal the consequences
Inside my dark brain where lie reasons

Take a look and see this abandoned willow
The leaves are shriveled and desperately pale
The nests were blown away by winds of blues
As there will never sing a nightingale

I will become green again and again
It is just a way of deeper growing
Sometimes I need to be pruned  by solitude
Sometimes to be watered by melancholy

...And you really smelled life, sounded meaning
You nourished the seeds for inner peace and rest
My young and evergreen saplings are growing
You will meet me one day in a willow forest
Willow shade Mar 5
I took care of others, walked in their shoes,
got their trivial pains and forgot my loyal legs...
If I present you the baneful thorns I have trodden,
would you be ready to follow me again and barefoot?
My mind will always be bitterly cold
as an intact valley and never understood...

Though I am sure that you do not care,
I feel well, very well, except longing.
Your dreams are flailing even everywhere
while I try to stop contemplating...
You know, I am a bit chatty when I am inspired
and the poet inside me never gets tired.

You can't grasp how painful it is to emanate a poem,
how you go out of your infatuated mind...
When 'clevers' seek for justice, but only for themselves,
there is nothing else purer than the tears of madmen.
So, happiness would have been an evident injustice,
if all of the people attained their desires.
I have faced many types of mental battles,
but no war is harder than the lack of love inside.
Love is living your life for another one's sake,
sacrificing everything with honor and pride...

Now I am sure that there exists no hate,
but just does the love of hatred indeed.
Before the absurdness of irrevocable fate
only love will save us in eternity...

No feeling will help you to be deeply blessed
while mass is spurious and loners are obsessed...
As you **** your hopes you gain fake freedom,
but free slavery will still be going on,
sometimes feeling oppressed, depressed, repressed...

However,
Invincible I am before such odd jobs
and I have found ways to keep myself up.
Now I live slowly till the time begins to blur,
paradoxes take place within my dark thoughts,
I divide the time to its perpetual aeons,
all the rules and limits I swear to deny
and save the endless time when we were eye to eye...
Through your looks the heavenly sky is clear
and all the possibilities are real there...
My benevolent angel,
let the eternity recur from the start,
only the eyes of blinds do not show their hearts...

I feel very sorry and deeply upset,
when the human inside silently regrets ...
Yet I am too clumsy to move mountains,
to achieve sanctity which I want to serve.
I wish I made you happy at my any chance,
But I can only make you happiness itself...
Willow shade Jan 27
I grabbed the eternal fire of the life
when your laugh suddenly grasped me in a void.
As you cuddled my abandoned, desolate spirit,
what a piece of sparkle could really commit
did you at least see and feel it, my dear?

Till now I remember your humane manners,
as I climb my first power-smelling ladders...
I see how the love inside turns into ego,
If I'd have been sober and hadn't let you go,
Would you have still been so true and sincere?

Power is as right as the origin of life,
however as guilty as the creator's strive.
I live all the moments as if my last ones
and wish for a moment, just only at a glance
that you were around now, that you were here...

You are the reflection of my hazy past,
my self-destructed, inside-lost part,
a disparaged philosopher, a despised poet,
our sublime revenge we begin to get,
and my majestic woman,  
you are inside yet...
So, the future is definitely clear...

Future is clear...
I am coming through,
With you
Even writing
And for the first time without any regret
Willow shade Jun 2018
Only fire can be born from a spark, nothing else.

It is impossible to keep fire not burning.

You cannot warm yourself near volcano and feel serene.

You cannot touch the sun, you can just only watch it.

Even if you love the sun, you must love it humanly, not like a moth. That is the main difference of a deeper, conscious and pure love.

No human loves suffering or wants to live in it. If one does and wants, he is something new, but anyway, not a human.

And if the one is not a human, he cannot be purer than he was before.

Pure thing is humanity. Humanity is always serene and as calm as shallow, mild water to swim in.

Being humane is the highest state of being.

Anything surpasses it with suffers, pain and fire, either can turn you to inhuman being or to ashes.

There is no humanity beyond suffering. Even if it is the suffering of the deepest love. You have to come back.

In any case and circumstances, pure love must not hurt, pure love cannot degrade, pure love has no ability to set a fire.

But the thing inside me began with an instant spark and I have been in a fire burning everything and everyone around.

I wish I could cry and extinguished this fire. Yet I cannot cry. Because its spring is not from a pure love. It does not know tears. It is from a spark, from an insincere, egoist and rampant origin.

My poetry and feelings to you are a flame. It deceives by making you feel hot when you are cold and showing itself as a great present or creating various magnificent ornaments. I remember how heroically you tried to carry it, I also tried, but it is impossible. It wants only one thing - just to burn anything it has, it finds and it encounters. Even myself.

At least, for humanity and for you I must stop it. Not being too late. I wanted to provide a divine shade, but that rampant feeling inside was always deceiving and preparing a more frightful plot everytime. It was too many times stronger than me, it was courageous and tireless, however, it was not humane.

Sorry for burning your hands, my dear
Sorry for all hurts I gave

Be attentive about the genesis of your inner impromptu and inspiration, my dear poet brethren...
Willow shade Jun 2018
I close my sleepless eyes
Hearing your soothing voice,
There is something deep in it
More than any composure
and more than any rejoice.
I feel as centuries passed
after our first meeting,
Which life am I living in?
Second or even further?
Which do I begin anew?
I am like the graveyard
of nascent identities,
None of them could have survived
till the day I fell in you.
The world becomes very small
When you learn to fly high
Winds carry jubilances
and begin to work for you
even when you do not try.
Though I feel suicidal,
fighting with knotty senses,
I don't want to leave you as,
it dears to live even
for nice coincidences.
You can find me childish
When I try to hold on
and look for security,
A poet is always a child
even in maturity.
Willow shade Jun 2018
When I go to the devil,
when I am completely down
then I sorely fathom that
all hands of hope have withdrawn.

And the time will not come back...
Leaving a bitter solace...
As huge as the burning sun
which I try to embrace

Wish you could extinguish
my hell which I desire.
I miss you like Satan pines
for the eternal fire.

You see lurid reflections
in my poems as an art.
You can read me from my hands,
wish you could do from my heart...
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