365th year has passed, every day a different ignorance is revealed and the truth is shifting by blind eyes,
He reminded us for 7 weeks, the story of the disappearance of each minute,
It was tired for 24 minutes, all seconds and the end of the end of the end of the end of the end of time,
Hours, days, weeks and years, they migrated, the most beautiful flowers had decorated their graves,
Was an empty wallet, a hungry stomach, and a child crushed under poverty, all lessons or troubles,
How logical it was to prefer smoked food scents for a warm soup
The day was bleeding half of it had already passed, there were no experiences left behind a quiet storm,
Bu yağmur... bu yağmur... bu kıldan ince
Nefesten yumuşak yağan bu yağmur...
Bu yağmur... bu yağmur... bir gün dinince.
Aynalar yüzümü tanımaz olur.
Bu yağmur kanımı boğan bir iplik
Devamını Oku
Nefesten yumuşak yağan bu yağmur...
Bu yağmur... bu yağmur... bir gün dinince.
Aynalar yüzümü tanımaz olur.
Bu yağmur kanımı boğan bir iplik




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