I'm a piece of fiction.
Fractions of ink on a paper,
Pixelated in achromatic spectrum
Under the shadow of dim night lamp
Damp pillows and hopeless heads.

I'm a piece of word,
Tangling in soulless minds
Eventually fades,
Easily replaced.

I'm a scratch of scribbles on a paper.
Cuts through the fingers of beautiful minds
Bleeding dreams and sorrows
Until-

The End.

Being ruled by emotions,
is a shaky foundation-
crumbling away from one's feet.
How does one cling to positivity-
when self-doubt fragments all?

Hear the sound
Of a simple voice
What will unfold?
Will I have a choice-
in the matter at hand?
In the echo of my own footsteps,
I lose what I thought I had.

Made myself sick with pain,
living a life desperate for answers.
I cannot help but to ponder my existence.

She is a true blue living legend
displaying  many colors of love
there is no doubt about it,if only
you know where to look at.
But wait,in the way she expresses it
everything  would get reversed!
if one concludes she is demure,
think twice before deciding.
She did invent a new tongue
entirely of monosyllables!
write it in high  hieroglyphics
none could ever aspire to decipher.
Don't forget to take this fact in to account
in bed, she is a whirlwind
unlike  most Indian brides,
who wear shyness as an armour
tradition prescribes for brides.

Having been a stray myself

I seem to attract them.

In a world of 7 billion
We found each other
And that just has to
really mean something
Because from 7 billion
We found our paths crossed
And though we'd lose so much
We were never ever lost.

So hold my hand and see the world
See how out of 7 billion, we made it.
We made it,
Not from pure luck but from the love
Deep within both of us.

Old acquaintances die on the vine , left at times
like unpicked apples in backyard groves
Their purpose completed
Their value long since depleted  
Their help painfully unneeded* ..

Something strange sits
In the murkey mist of ages
Just far enough out of reach
To keep us from its truth

The closest ever we come to it
Is the soft ringing in our ears
That comes only in dead of night
When all but the mind sleeps

Every night does it play
In vain hope
Lulling us to sleep
And bidding us to dream

Desperately calling to us
With all its might
So that one day
We might wake up

just I existed
but no one
in place of me

a lily was bleeding  
in pure whiteness,
like your hands …

Koray Feyiz
(Translated from Turkish by Koray Feyiz)