Literature Of Loneliness, Dedicated To My Very Existence Poem by Okan Emanet

Whether you want to fly away like a bird,
Or you feel the desire to stay firm next to me like the humanity of the world,
I’ll always live in paradise with you and in your eyes
It doesn’t matter, I mean, as I’ve told you, before
Waste of my emotion
Loneliness is my literature.

Love is probably beauty
Or love is remarkably paradise
I don’t know which one is right
The only thing I’m aware of
Loneliness is my literature.

Love is maybe the expression of being ashamed
Love may mean deleting the trace of loneliness
Love, as they say, is certainly the way to dispose of distress
Love, if you ask me, is the literal essay of my wording
That is,
Loneliness is my literature.

Women, as I’ve understood, are the sheets to cover men’s mind
So in that way no men can find themselves
As is known, women are wordily the factors of successful men
I don’t think they are so
In fact they are the beginnings of lonely hearts
As for me
Loneliness is my literature.

Tell me, the creator of my loneliness,
What being deserted means
Ignore my query on it
Loneliness is not your literature but my own one.

Loneliness is like writing your bloody name on my cigarette
While smoking, it is poisoning
Even the fire cannot burn it
How my heart can delet it
That is,
Loneliness is my literature.

Loneliness is like the shadow of a ghost following you every time
It is in some way as though it would grasp you behind
Turning around yourself suddenly,
You again encounter with the same thing
Loneliness is the wall of expression
Loneliness freezes the words in your mouth
Loneliness stops your writing
Loneliness causes your thinking
Loneliness is living the literature of my own.
Loneliness is my literature, not your own.