Poetry

O, witnesses of the night
Exile me
To the most distant point of the universe
In the complex area of the vacuum

Moment by moment
I think about my enjoyment
That night
the voice of calligrapher's pen was heard
And i feigned sleep
I became tired

Time
is my place to act
I have acknowledged my faith
I shall go to the cemetery
To dig a grave for myself

but
The weather is cold
It's snowing
And umbrellas
Have put my burial ceremony off .

 

(( Poet: Seyed Morteza Hamidzadeh ))