سرگشته ,Wayfarer ,Miriam Aghazade ,Maryam Aghazade, میریام , مریم

Some times when you are in the mountain, and every where is covered with silky snow as if there is no color left in the world, in that cold and silence, you feel peace and close, close to the gods of nature . . .

It seems world has come to its end, that nothing matters any more, not happiness nor sadness. That you are complete now and if you die right this very moment, you have nothing to regret. You have lived your whole life in this moment.

“Beautous angel of death, if you come to collect my soul this very moment, i shall follow thee with a content heart to the land of light,”

Thus madness begins.

There was loneliness and then you were lost, and have never been found, you don’t want to be found.

Life is mirage; you go on and end up in an endless desert, where there is no going back and there is no going forth. We all are trapped in this mirage of life and will not find a way out unless we are awake, yet we can not wake up cause we do not know we are asleep.

What a nightmare.

My life has been a nightmare I can not wake up from . . .

این سکوت یخزده در قلب به یادت میاورد
که هیچ کس قابل اعتماد نیست
حتی خودت
بیش از همه خودت
تو بیش از همه به خود خیانت می کنی . . .