I can not rearrange the words,
Even can not remember the lines
Because of these long unnecessary thought waves
That rubbed out the lines of my poems.
That took my letters and  my lyrics
Even the rhythm that i wanted to sing
Now, no theme is penetrating my mind
No idea for making a verse,
This vacant mind irritates me most
Like a hell, like a curse
As it is not a dark night , and,
I don't have any THOUGHT FOX.
Now only one thing can be done,
I'll take some alcohol and sleep
If any NIGHTINGLE comes to my dream
To take me with it in its Ideal World,
Then it will be the blessings for my poems
And it'll enrich my thoughts and idea
Now i'll create a little verse,
Leaving my all inertia ....