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Confusions flooding in, even semantics doesn't have a clue,
Rising complexities, guardian angels don't know what to do,
After a thousand knots, now into the light I see.
Planting new perspectives hoping they'll reach the edge of the galaxy.

Built as a broadcast delay, I could touch the tension in those stares,
When I found myself being -once again- late.
No warning signs exist against the struggle to radicate,
For once, thought printing machine of mine had better not create a bait.
I still believe in euphoria,
Just like I believed in you, for ya.
I was making love with your idea,
With bursting passion, a complete aria.

Healing takes time, they say.
Now it is high time I went on with this day:
Finally being present, taking time to smell the leaves of bay,
I dare say, the infinite maze finally paid.
I cannot show them my sincerity,
Cannot hold in my hands, my pain.
Delusions and dreams, my sweetest escape.
Except a lesson, what did I gain?

I thought I would know, now I don't know why.
My love was falsely advertised.

The emotions, they come in waves.
In my head, I still replay your innocent gaze.
The absence of our potential days, it lays
On my chest, becoming a part of me as it weighs
I guess we've both gone through different hallways.
He walks alone, the path unsure,
Yet sees beyond the present lure.
With eyes that pierce the veils of mist,
He speaks of truths the world has missed.

Clad not in robes, but thought and air,
He heeds no crowd, nor seeks their care.
A whisperer of winds and time,
He answers not to man nor clime.

They mock his gait, they jeer, they laugh—
Yet drink his words by quartered draught.
He is the stone the builders spurned,
Yet in his silence, worlds are turned.
An observation for the young and gifted Emirhan Nakas
Collision season of ours, it should have felt like strings in planetarium.
I still hold hidden affection in my chest,
Completely enough to fill a stadium.
Filled with patterns of anyone I ever loved, to be a mosaic museum.

Before we branched into different junctions,
If only we had collected more memories, oh the fear of oblivion.
We should've danced just like Mia & Sebastian.
It should have felt like planetarium,
Magical, cinematic, worthy of a scene, 3, 2, 1 - action.
Honoring the blessing that sword-fights the ice age in my thought-printing machine.
When that jazz song hits the false ending,
The moment fright rises and screams: "Defectively, all's landing."
Suddenly, the walls witness the rhythm's reviving;
The caged page bleeds its dead greys to green.

Losing is a hyponym of despair, by definition,
Until one can notice the "creative destruction."
Suffering with pinching feet in a cursed dance any day-
Though Marcus said, "What stands in the way becomes the way."

Rabid monsters, for your parts all were greedy.
Events are unfolding in the background,
As bite marks leave you rusty.
That's how all falls into place: the principle of "synchronicity".
I never wanted to give up on you,
And it was not my plan to be the one who leaves, too.
Months passed, the only dream I hold onto:
That we both chose to change for each other as our invisible string was not meant to snap in two.

To be very well aware of the signs, from the first second,
Convinced myself you were the one, or that was what my thirst reckoned.
My soul still craves for watching eyes made by weeping cherry blossom.
I want us to sit in that park bench we kissed instead of exploding the nuclear weapon.

Yearning for being able to kiss camellia flowers of you made by twain leaves
You said it would be hard for you to leave,
Well, cutting the wire to leave you was also not with ease.
I wonder if you still keep that little keychain bear and my grey beanie,
As I am still dreaming of you, oh why to be two abandonees?
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