Convulsion
A
Abdul Wahab
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Altın Yaprak
The water of your heart
Fleeced of stillness
Continues to shake
And creates waves
The jerk
You must born to taste
Consciousness
The burden of unborn
Feelings
The epicentre of restlessness
Bereft of the bliss
Of inanimate
The awareness
Of birth
Keep you
In restless motion
Haunting
Death is not respite either
No matter
What ideology
You eat or fed.
The end or endless
Both the notions
Make your soul
To suffer the convulsion
Bu şiiri puanla
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