There must be respite in the ebon quake
lids like nightling moths,
fluttered above the littered fields
barren but for the ebb and tide of moonlight
thick as milk.
Feeble grip shakes loose
tossed down below a carbon root
took hold,
a heart in repose
as it would to the sounds
of thunder.

Nightling
In the quiet rapture
Soon to take you out
To pasture
Casting shadows
On the wall
As in and out
Of love
I fall
And scrawled a codex
On the floor
Rosetta ******
In Nevermore
Eternally
Nocturnal
Wake
Forsaken son
Of goodness sake
I’ll break into
Your safest space
And bank on black
You’ll never find me
See you at
My not-so timely
Unassuming
Doom and gloom
Just feed me to the void
In bloom

my best friend gökhan tatchouop
you are gone
faded out like a song
you will never come back

i we we i lost track
you will never come back
the brothers and sisters
are protecting the platform

golden dusty hair
sitting on rusty chairs
guardians of the right cause
a good man does the right thing

i transformed into a nightling
as i listened to your voice
the last time as you
wrote your last rhyme

we were poets
we were taggers we were brothers
we were the same and an other
we longed for fame

you are gone gökhan
you will never come back
but you remain in the dust of
the brothers and sisters

they will never leave
they are always there
guardians of the platforms
guardians of trains

like gods supernatural
creatures: violent protectors
willing to attack anybody
who spits against your grave

REST IN PEACE MY MAN
SINCERELY MIKEY YOUR FAN