Letting go takes time


It’s hard to accept, but you can’t change the past. You can’t go back and manipulate things to the way you wanted them to happen.

Because life’d be meaningless and boring and just not worth living.But you can change the future and that’s a beautiful thing about life.

Yes, you will make mistakes. And yes, you will have bad days, but as long as you let the past go, you’ll have such a gorgeous and bright future ahead of you.

Knowing that things were meant to happen. MMKnowing that each day you will learn something so that you keep growing to be a better person..

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O Lord! Always make your grace a guide for me. Don´t show me the road which doesn’t go to you! . . . Ya Rab! Lütfunu rehber kıl daima bana ve sakın sana ulaşmayan yolu bana gösterme! . . . Fuzuli


I have lived on the lip of insanity, wanting to know reasons, knocking on a door. It opens. I’ve been knocking from the inside.


Sebepleri öğrenmek isteyerek delirmenin eşiğinde, çaldım Allah’ın kapısını. Kapı açıldı ve gördüm ki, içerden çalmaktaymışım.


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Gardens Green

Friendly Fairy Tales


Summer is
a meandering path.
mowed green,
leaf music,
birdsong bursts,
shade on a hot day,
flowers nodding.

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forever haunting me

The Lonely Author


This little thing was inspired  by a recent conversation……


forever haunting me 


Her metaphors possess me
like a supernatural entity
clinging to my soul in desperation
Refusing to release me
as if it never had a body
to claim as its own

The ghosts in her verses
engrave poetry on tombstones
inside the graveyard of my heart
As her poetry eternally echoes
for her words are spirits
forever haunting me



Photo from Google Images

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“So, we’ll go no more a roving” Lord Byron


So, we’ll go no more a-roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as loving,
And the moon be still as bright
For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And love itself have rest
Though the night was made for loving,
And the day returns too soon,
Yet we’ll go no more a-roving
By the light of the moon

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moments with Keats


tread soft round mossy trees
where apples sweeten and hazels swell
walk a field fumed with poppies
and hear swallows over say farewell

on a peak between two spreads
turn from grey Atlantic’s fathomed heart
and face the cryptic blue Pacific
we’ve yet to delve and chart

be still and listen to sweet music
on Attic vase simple strung
and don’t regret the lovers never kiss
they are perfected and forever young

raise a glass full of the warm south
the night is tender and the moon is grand
we’ll drink to Beauty Truth and Love
and Peace to touch us with a magic hand

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