Voiceless dread of heart is deprived of

the manners of demand.

Lights were fading

Cold air began to stop.

Unsymmetrical sketches of pain were drawn

on the pages of the city.

Slow moving clouds

embraced the stars delightedly.

Swathed in light,

I saw her through the veil of feelings,

refreshing my body

through the boiling fires of imagination,

and guessed the restlessness of impatient nerves.

She was out of sight

and remained out of sight.

Waiting became more intense.

Cold air began to stop slowly.

Voiceless dread of the heart sounded to be deprived of

the manners of demand.

What I have required from anyone I don't know,

but I know

I am terrified by the sorrow of dimensional allures.

I am her admirer

but on the basis of what goodness of mine

should I beg love from her?

In payment for which help\
should I claim from her?

Everything is at a standstill,

soft moving clouds.....wind......stars

time.....I myself !

When after entering into the womb of incidents

someone disappears,

who can say to whom

voiceless dread of heart sounds to be deprived of

the manners of demand?