To Your Goodness...

in #writing6 years ago

Conscience and mercy. Two feelings that everybody in your chest has a heartbeat that we think we have ... We are so grateful that you are now!

Look at the places where a person is repressed, their footprints reveal what they carry. For instance, it does not crush ant sockets. It does not hit the wild flowers that come out of the key stones. Yüreğin, walk along the line of goodness on this earth.

Look at your hands, did it touch the soil, hid a seed? Did your lips drink a glass of water with great intensity, is it moist? A cat sleeping peacefully in your chest? Look at his eyes, did he smile at a child, is the light a light, is he blissed with joy?

Look at a person's memories, did he? Did he even like a tree without money? Is he loved or is he approaching the street dogs without fear?

As I write, how is it caressing and how it is filled with hope, it hurts so much for me as I write, the wings of my hopes are breaking. There are dead creatures inside me, their bodies cold, their eyes full of anger. Maybe even the girl who gave up; They have heavy, meaningful looks of an angel cut from a winged wing. In my case, the necklace from an evil eye pendant is now big enough to own the rope. The weakened neck, blackened beads, forget the blue. The owner's eyes, but he will remain blind forever. I have countless words in it, I can not shed neither the paper nor the slime. Words are not enough, these words are too tired to lift these meanings.

Think of a person, you are under the same wing but he does not see the blueness. When you fall in love with that child's blue eyes, he ... What is my writing here now? You say it. What is he saying? Even those white papers do not get bad writing evil. When white papers can not be written, a child is found in the innocent body of bad fate.

I write a black-eyed child, but he looks good. He's the most fit. Maybe the pouch was white, my mother was wearing socks. His pants had white socks at the end. We will never know. He told us at the last glance, maybe in our story, but we will never find the courage to look at those eyes.

I want to vomit my anger, actually. But there is so much pain that I can not come to the court. If I open my mouth it will pour tears. The mouthful curses are waiting for their curse. But none of them will make a profit. What a painful crying cry, no curse of fury read.

If there is only one thing I know and believe, he will save the world good. Loving will save. Those beautiful days are born to love. Hate will always lose. We will heal our souls together, which will not save. Goodness will win again. So do not hit the pit of a wildcat, do not crush the wildflowers, smile at the children as you fear the cat dog. Touch the ground, hug the mouth ... One of the bodies, learn to live from it. "Single and free" and most importantly "to his brother ..."

Your health ... To your goodness ... To your goodness. Do not give any more ...

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