Often their eyes are closed
Communication through hearts are blocked
Each and every is a compartment
In ugly external views
Afraid of morality
When sparrows came to tell the story
their eyes were plucked out
And fixed on the pages of books
At the crows of the sea crows wings
Their ears Held tight
In the calendars, Black and Red Characters
are running faster than the train.
They were panted at the black stations
Without colliding on the iron rails,
pain in their abdomen remains
When getting down
I and you told to no one
No sent off or good byes
Even the memory has dried up.
To the time when it doesn’t exist
A cyber journey…..
Or an empty journey…