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My poem. Under the weight of oblivion — in endless flow, Where memory is torn by time’s deforming blow, Our whole life is a blind decision made, By a soul that chose its path — and the cyclic debt. And the grasp of eternity is not light nor peace, Only slow
29 May 2026
Sometimes I try myself in poetry. The weather is getting warmer, and my heart feels softer these days. Maybe it’s the sea — it always makes everything inside me quieter. So I wanted to leave a small piece of that feeling here. The sea keeps its own time. Not hours,
29 May 2026
My winter. Winter was soft for me this year. Quiet lights, cold air, long nights that felt a little magical. February drop always feels like a secret moment between seasons — when winter is still here, but spring is already on its way. Just a few last winter lights before everything
25 May 2026
