Now, my days pass in this room of
desolation...

Often,
what I write on the paper is a letter...

It is difficult for a soul
to seek shelter in rain of despair...

Now our fate is demanding
more than being friends...

I still remember
why summer had died that year, and...

Enough of walking on suicidal thoughts
or...

Once on
finding my way back to the home of happiness...

Don't let me wander
in alleys of yesterday...

In arms of darkness, I found peace.
God is nothing, but a showpiece...

Wine of love upon your lips
when infuses...

I can never forget
that month of June...

The life of poets is collapsing
within grief...