Sometimes I thought that how I ended becoming this writer,
this expressor of words in this shadows of dark ,
when I become afraid to say this to you,
when I become interested in language which messages can listen my everyone but it will always changes it's meaning .When This happens,
At first you were those blushes which I painted on my writings to make it scented by my feelings ,
but at last you too changed from becoming my muse to write,to becoming characters,to becoming emotions and now no one,
suddenly when I remember you, I always thought about writing but I don't want to remember you,
I don't want to return to those trenches from where coming was difficult ,was dark for me ,
can't you spare this writing for me at last
as symbol of our farewell ,
as love which was in past.............
