Amidst the graveyard of misunderstanding and neglect, I am still walking.
Hear the groan of your wounds moaning,
under the rubble of the grave of your spiritual loneliness.
Your spiritual loneliness and the cold dark emotional emptiness,
which have blown you with their forceful winds,
towards a land of a distant country.
A faraway country where you cannot see the reflection of your beautiful face,
on the glittering surfaces of the streams of longing and yearning,
which used to spring profusely from the crumbly rocks.
The crumbly rocks which originate from the hearts of your loved ones,
who remained stuck to the departure.
The departure that crumbled their hearts long ago,
by the unbearable pains of their passionate love.
But now, your beautiful face no longer has a place to be reflected on,
and make you able to ponder the charm of its features,
except for the turbid surfaces of stagnant water,
that the breath of life did not stir.
Deep in the graves of misunderstanding and neglect,
emotional death may have the power to reshape our features,
and recast our new identity.
Our new identity that becomes closer to human deformity, than to the ordinary human being.
The carefully balanced human being that grew up in the arms of love and care.
Between the arms of the oases of love and care,
which lie in the desert of the vast cosmic emptiness.
Always and forever, there is a sanctuary and a refuge,
and sweet rivers that originate from the springs of the pure tender hearts.
The sweet rivers those are able to redraw our old angelic features,
when the springs of life-giving love erupt,
and enables us to see our true features on the ripples of their glittering surfaces.