i stand on the precipice of oblivion, the winds whipping away what remains of ur features in my memory.
my chest aches with silent cries, heard only by an endless, long night.
i search for ur face in the faces of passersby
like a stranger who has lost his homeland in the hustle and bustle of life.

have u ever seen a homeland abandon its citizens
leaving them exiled within its own borders?

shall i conceal my love for u? and how can the heart hide it
when the eyes blaze with its revelation? shall i deny longing? No.. iam consumed by yearning that follows me
and finds me, and i appease it.
i walk towards u, my steps bound to u, as if i were a ship whose harbor has been lost.
ily now… no yesterday binds me
nor tomorrow, only my love whispers to it.
@7:18

they say that the heart has seven-7- doors
and u entered through the first one, and closed the seventh behind u
so u became the pulse, u are the one who dwells, and u are the place.
@7:18

it's as if iam a bird that owns the sky
but longs for a cage in ur chest.
@7:18

what good are these wings that have sprouted on my shoulders, if every time i try to fly i feel that the sky is narrow, and that the wind is pushing me back?
flying does not mean wide open space, but rather having a place where u long to land.
what is the value of wings if they do not lead me to ur balcony, and what is the point of the sky if u are not its expanse?
@7:18

࿙tٓhey say ihave wings
but i only feel like i'm flying with u
@7:18

every time i flutter away
࣪ 𖥔the thread 𝆭of my hea𝆺𝅥rt pulls me back to u. .࣪ 𖥔
so what is the point of flying?"
@7:18

take the wings
take the range
and give me one step that ends with u." 🪽
@7:18

the wings that do not carry me to u are merely a burden on my back.
@7:18

its as if i'm a fire that finds nothing to devour
so it consumes the wreckage of its own soul.

its like i’m a huge fire that broke out in a wasteland
no forest to burn, no wood to keep me going, so i just turned inward and started eating my own roots.
i’m the fire and the wood at the same time
every time hope sparks in me, it just turns into ash, blowing away in a sky of endless despair.
i try to call out to the wind for help, but it only fans the flames.
i wait for the rain, but it evaporates before it can even touch the burn in my soul.
so this is how i go on—just fading away in silence, flickering out bit by bit, until there’s nothing left of me but a darkness that looks like a stranger’s night.

i am lost between two paths, one that breaks me and the other that erases my trace
and both lead to an abyss with no bottom.

It's as if I'm stuck at a crossroads
every time i choose a path
i find despair waiting for me at the end...
as if all paths were designed to lead me back to my disappointment.