On the Roads of the Cold Cosmic Emptiness

These are the ancient streets that stretch out in the depth of time between the walls of our old longing.

The unfulfilled longing for love that covered the old walls with the tears of the black mournful nights.

The sad nights that witnessed the death of the murdered dreams under the weight of the dire sadness.

The deep sorrows that left indelible imprints between the cracks of the timeworn crumbly walls.

The crumbly walls whose shabby windows overlook our emotional emptiness during our solitary walk. 

The agony of our otherworldly spiritual hunger which is always aggravated by the solo walk on the gloomy old alleys.

The emotional hunger that springs from the depths of the wounds of our spiritual hemorrhage.

 The spiritual bleeding that we usually feel when we wade through the darkness of this black cosmic emptiness.

The cold cosmic emptiness, far from the warmth of the proximity of our loved ones.

The spiritual hunger that groans between the ribs and amid the mournful rumblings of the souls.

The mournful rumblings of the souls, whose groan are always echoed by the sad faces of the crumbly, worn-out walls,

and are always mocked vehemently by the ruthless cruelty of our solitary, desolate walk.

So, it is still that eternal calling in the depths of my soul, 

calling for your soul, that we may walk together, holding your hand,

in the dead of night, on the roads of the cold cosmic emptiness.

Fulfilling our spiritual longing, dispelling the void of our bitter cold nights through the warmth of our united souls.