Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

I talk to death while living, 
 Asking when I will leave it.
 There is no place for dreamers here,
  The ones who fulfilled 
 My dreams have disappeared...  

I talk to my old self, 
 Take his heart in my hand,
  And tell him that he guided me
  In a wrong direction of feelings.

 But I need to forgive him first,
  To be able to completely forget others,
  And then the wrong things... 
 All my past and everything I've built it.

 I talk to the four walls 
 That kept me closed 
 In this room of white nights,
 With wolves and owls around my heart.

  I look at the window that looks like a mirror
  That scans my days left to stay here,
 Until I will disappear along
  With my old dreams and other dreamers.