Sparrows are benign,
their textures are so fine...

Corroding in sinews,
blooming in soul...

Speechless is the word.
Poetry is too loud...

Speechless is the word.
Poetry is too loud...

Time is spiral yet
without a history it's...

The nightmare
is that nobody is out there...

We live together though
we die separately...

Birth is the first chip on our windshield,
after...

to Kaveh and the stars of his eyes.
It was a Sunday sunny afternoon...

Beauty and youth
have no choice...

The painted flower on the vase
perched on the ledge said...

I am the prince of your madness dreams
The one who would never lie...