Joining the names, 
a nameless melancholia crosses a borderland, 
between dreams & reality. 
The stone face, a mask, 
some nothingness transcends 
the unhearing mind. 
Tell me how much 
you know about yourself? 

Moon shaped pleasures 
did not stir me, not ever. 
The hours of a dark day moved 
in pink fog, my heart 
was bruised in a fall. 
My infinite failures 
saw the inversed truth. 

Yellow was the rage, fire. 
A perpetual leap from emptiness. 
The flames were movements, 
towards void. 
The thoughts were circling over the flames. 
Green windows open, shut, open. 
My timeless affair with my self starts.

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