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turgay-usanmazPoems
razors in their hands hangmen wanted to cut to bits our tongues before our hearts in the mid of the fires while, hitting our logic to insanity chain we guarded a red rose in our hearts slave men many of them -even- unknowing how they are deceived by the lies shared the pogrom gravitated to Madımak Hotel on 1993 thoughts were in the spider's web beards are white, hearts are black feet ran for killing and burned the flowers' blossoms with their seeds which are the future of their children reverend mullahs!? now, how the soup tastes at your tables? after two, they were thirty five comrades who drained life from their souls they were who had pure love in their thoughts now, they will be the guests of our souls till the eternity they were proud, revolutionist and compassionate and they are at the comrades bitter consolation resting in our hearts moon lights shining on their faces that’s why every second of July songs are more sorrowful consciousnesses are more rebellious! my grudge sharpened -like a knife- day by day aaaah aah ah! at the yearn of the friendly smell at the resistance, not to forget my feelings my feelings, remained orphan Turgay Usanmaz
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Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 2:11 AM UTC
orphan feelings
razors in their hands hangmen wanted to cut to bits our tongues before our hearts in the mid of the fires while, hitting our logic to insanity chain we guarded a red rose in our hearts slave men many of them -even- unknowing how they are deceived by the lies shared the pogrom gravitated to Madımak Hotel on 1993 thoughts were in the spider's web beards are white, hearts are black feet ran for killing and burned the flowers' blossoms with their seeds which are the future of their children reverend mullahs!? now, how the soup tastes at your tables? after two, they were thirty five comrades who drained life from their souls they were who had pure love in their thoughts now, they will be the guests of our souls till the eternity they were proud, revolutionist and compassionate and they are at the comrades bitter consolation resting in our hearts moon lights shining on their faces that’s why every second of July songs are more sorrowful consciousnesses are more rebellious! my grudge sharpened -like a knife- day by day aaaah aah ah! at the yearn of the friendly smell at the resistance, not to forget my feelings my feelings, remained orphan Turgay Usanmaz
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turgay-usanmaz
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 2:11 AM UTC
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