My Final Poem to You Şiiri - Bahar Ada

My Final Poem to You
Each time, you flee in fear—
a breath escaping the cage of heart,
hurriedly thrown into the hands of time.

Breath is light,
the heart’s cage is dark.

Fear has no power over fate—you know this.
If you swore never to love,
it's not out of loyalty to time,
but born of a selfish pact with yourself.

You're selfish toward yourself.
You're not even loyal to your own soul.

Your sorrow is self-made.
Your wound is no heirloom left by another—
it's your own inheritance.
Stop blaming the past.
Your wound does not come from yesterday,
but from the reflection you see today.

You think only of yourself.

If light is a coward,
it is a disheveled prisoner in its own heaven.
The teacher of angels feared Man.
Fire feared its clay.
And so, light was sentenced to darkness.

What a tragedy.

Thus began eternal Love.
This inheritance is not yours,
do not fret—it demands no further gifts.
It was the first stumble of Man to Angel.

You thought yourself in longing for fire.
Your obsession with hell, with flame—
it stems from this.
Your ignorance blinds you.

You are the fire.
My clumsy light, awaken.
You are the light whose fire is born within.
You are careless with yourself—wake up.

Please wake.
Now, wake.

You do not know yourself.
Your light is falsely imprisoned by darkness.
When you truly break your bond with my shadows,
your garden will change,
rose-scent will flood hell.
Your light will no longer burn,
it will illuminate hell.
For now, your light is missing,
a fugitive.

What a pity.

Mistaking yourself for darkness,
your blindness to the night—
this is your delusion.
You are light, the star of your own being.
Yet still, you're ignorant of yourself.

You don’t know who you are,
yet you wonder about our ending.
Ah, it’s all because of this.

Each time I say, “Come back to yourself,”
it’s because you never do.

Understand this once:
I am the darkness.
You are the light.
I am the womb,
you, the one who cuts the cord.

It is light that approaches darkness.
If darkness rejects light,
then all true being loses its meaning.
That’s why I could never reject you.

I want to exist with you.
When I say, “Your being is enough,”
it's because only then can light fulfill its duty.
You say, “I’m grateful for your being,”
for this very reason.

And yet, light wishes to disappear
in the reflection of its own darkness.
Your hunger to abandon me is born of this.
You don’t wish to feel gratitude toward me,
don’t wish to owe me more.
But light can only be grateful to its darkness—accept it.
You are surrounded by light,
own it.
None of it is your darkness—
rejoice.

I am your darkness.

The dignified, resolute darkness that endures.
I am the darkness you could never conquer,
you are the light I loved without understanding.
You are my proud, determined light.
I am the darkness that surrendered with love,
you are the light that loved me with understanding.

I am your darkness.

And so for the first time, you are grateful,
amazed at what you’ve understood.
Understanding is not my task—it is yours.
You knew this too.

To understand and to know—that is your duty.

You are hell’s noble child.
My devil, my light, my morning star.
How could you illuminate me without understanding me?
Your “Don’t understand, just love me”
was always because of this.
This is your divine assignment.

If you're not ready for truth,
if your light still trembles,
then so be it—
I leave you now, my light.
I go on my way.
When your light is ready,
I’ll still be here—always,
your darkness, yearning for illumination.

Let darkness wander a while longer,
longing for light.
Let it shout its courage
at doors forever closed in reproach.

Let light grieve in haste,
defeated by darkness.
Let it tremble in fear,
diving recklessly into seas of guilt.

This is my final poem to you.

I will not violate your soul’s gate.
I will not walk your heart’s garden.
I will not go mad when you fail
to cleave light from my darkness.
My devil, my morning star, my daylight,
my sun in the night—

This is my last poem for you.

These are your final verses to me,
my dearest muse.
This crimson dusk is the penultimate awakening.
I am your darkness,
now longing for your sharp light.
When I say, “Cut me,”
you click your heels and flee
like a schoolchild dodging homework.

Fear does nothing against death.
What’s done is done, the dead are gone.
The jug broke,
and your beautiful soul went thirsty.
I am the life-water, you are the jug.
Your cracks can only be healed
by the water inside you.
Water meets earth—it becomes mud.
I am the one who gives life to soil.
I will heal your breaks again.

In me, your soul is in safe hands.

Truth is heavy.
My love, my light,
your fear is not of the past, but the future.
Every “What comes next?”
diminishes you—not just us.
You seek to understand—yes—
but today is enough to understand.

So, what do you think happens next?

We will die together—that’s all.
We will live together—that’s all.
We will die with our wounds.
We will live with our wounds.
Will you live with me?
Will you die with me?
Will you burn tenderly with me?

You are betraying yourself.
You are light,
hidden in your dark gardens.
See it, and return to yourself.
Don’t wait for light anymore—
because you are the light.

Once, you told me, “All you want is loyalty.”
But I don’t seek loyalty from you—
I seek it from myself.

Darkness curls inward,
light bursts outward.
Light always knocks on the window of the dark.
That’s why you delight in my pain.

You, my unskilled light—
once you learn to serve my sorrows,
you won’t blind us anymore.
And at last, you’ll fill us—
free of all fear.

If there is theft of my right,
it’s by my own hand.
You owe me nothing.

Worry not, my light,
do not worry.
You think darkness desires only to be lit—no.
That’s a total misunderstanding.

Darkness is peace on its own—Nirvana.
It doesn’t only long for light.
Its fear is to drown in it.
You always summoned your own peace.

All I wanted—was to drown in you.

Light is blind on its own.
It doesn’t only wish to illuminate.
It wants to drown the dark.
And I always promised peace.

All you wanted—was to drown me.

You defy our divine law,
but breath without surrender is hollow.
He who rejects divine law prays in vain.

What have you done for yourself today?
Have you stepped into your own darkness?

This is my final poem to you.

My light abandons me.
Not yet ready to drown in the sea of bliss.
Time is prisoner to thought.
Patience is needed for this trial.
Gratitude is needed for this love.
You lack both.
You’re not there yet.

So, what do you think will happen?
Who else’s conscience can you walk beside,
who would ever want to drown in you more than I?
Who else sees more clearly that you are light?
My devil, my morning star, my noble repenter... you.
Who else could bring peace to your door by the ear,
if not me?

I am peace because of your light,
you are blind because of my darkness.

Understanding is yours, expression is mine.
Remember:
you always loved the one who spoke more than you.
Expression is my gift.
Understanding is yours.
That’s why you always said: “Don’t understand—just love.”

I’ve gone mad—you hear me.
My reason has abandoned me.
I take my hand from your golden-gated heart.
Until your sun rebinds the thread of my soul-water,
I withdraw.
My soul-water will flow to your eyes
until your sharp flame dulls.
Until then,
I won’t tarnish this black hole of trust you gave me.

Now go—
go on.
I’ve let you go.
You let me go too,
until we meet again.

Gulê