Ant palace dry head,
To give pain to your chest,
Let your wind be on my mountain, your darkness in my night,
Finding a cure becomes difficult as soon as it is diagnosed.
But in a word
Only that,
With your tearful and hopeless eyes,
It dissipates its blue by itself.
To the graying saddlebag,
I was happy, however, on my own.
Kayıt Tarihi : 6.4.2023 07:11:00
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