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.