Gizem Esra

[gizemesra]

Mumblings before the eternal rest,

ah, so full of misery and regret.

I should have let her live,

I should have let her live,

I should have let her live,

the gray-haired frail said.

@gizemesra

[gizemesra]

When fire no longer lights my person,

come to my grave and tell me all that's unsaid.

Then, nothing of sorts between us will be held,

and in the heavens we'll meet as long lost friends.

@gizemesra

[gizemesra]

Bubbles

Plenty bubbles emerged,

few were huge,

while the others were small;

few flew high,

while the others fell down;

but no matter what,

all did pop.

@gizemesra

[gizemesra]

Artists and Death

Artists tend to love death and death they love indeed. For death's the only thing not experienced by those who live.

Why, artist are vain humans, wanting to be all wise. Only death they know not, can not imitate. And if it embraces, not can they return to depict its views on stages.

So they live for so long as to know all except death. Or they die without knowing all, for all they know is too much for them.

They know what death is, just know not how it feels. A destiny, yet a hinderer to destiny. Peace, yet the paragon of unrest. An escape, yet none can validate.

It's love, yet it's hate. It's a foe, yet the closest friend. It's hope, yet a despair...

Thus artists tend to love death and death they love indeed. For them, death's more alluring than life can ever be.

@gizemesra

[gizemesra]

A wistful mind and a hopeless heart,

come together to make words of sorts.

A listless soul and an imperfect form,

grieve together to have been born.

@gizemesra