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A thousand lips, a thousand eyes,a thousand hearts will read these words,as you read them, graze them, this moment. Thousands will utter them into the abyss, someday, perhaps for years to come; loudly, softly,repeatedly, again and again and again.Some will mock, some will laugh. Somewill shed a tear. But it is writtenonly for your lips, your eyes, your heart,beloved.Do as you please.It is written by an ideal heart,intense, yet free, when in thought of you. Written from a dehydrated pen that shed the last drops of her blood,onto you. And still, you do not know me.
V.S. Atbay
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A thousand lips, a thousand eyes,a thousand hearts will read these words,as you read them, graze them, this moment. Thousands will utter them into the abyss, someday, perhaps for years to come; loudly, softly,repeatedly, again and again and again.Some will mock, some will laugh. Somewill shed a tear. But it is writtenonly for your lips, your eyes, your heart,beloved.Do as you please.It is written by an ideal heart,intense, yet free, when in thought of you. Written from a dehydrated pen that shed the last drops of her blood,onto you. And still, you do not know me.

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