-Só-: kopmuş gibi.

13 Ocak 2007 Cumartesi

kopmuş gibi.

kopmuş gibi..
yalnız gibi..
darmadağın gibi hala..

başka türlü bir şey bu yalnız seni isteyen..

yaktığın kadar, yıkmışsın da..
kalksam da..
yerde hala sana verdiklerim..
almadıkların.. alıp geri verdiklerin..
öyle işte..
böyle boş..
böyle umutsuz..
isteksizim..
hissizim..
kötüyüm..
ne istediğimi anladım sanırım..
yok olmak.. kıs bir süre de olsa..
hiç olmak..

and she wakes up knowing you're still there..

son bir kez inan yalan olsa da bazen bir rüya yeter..
kendimi kandırabilirim, ikimiz de görürsek eğer..

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Delirium Endless

Delirium is the youngest of the Endless. She smells of sweat, sour wines, late nights, old leather. Her realm is close and can be visited; however human minds were not made to comprehend her domain, and those few who have made the journey have been incapable of reporting back more than the tiniest fragments.

The poet Coleridge claimed to have known her intimately, but the man was an inveterate liar and in this, as in so much, we must doubt his word.

Her appearance is the most variable of all the Endless, who, at best, are ideas cloaked in the semblace of flesh. her shadow's shape and outline has no relationship to that of any body she wears, and it is tangible like old velvet.

Some say the tragedy of Delirium is her knowledge that, despite being older than suns, older than gods, she is forever the youngest of the Endless, who do not measure time as we measure time, or see the worlds through mortal eyes.

Others deny this, and say that Delirium has no tragedy, but here they speak without reflection.

For Delirium was once Delight. And although that was long ago now, even today her eyes are badly matched: one eye is a vivid emerald green, spattered with silver flecks that move. The other eye is vein blue.

Who knows what Delirium sees, through her mismatched eyes?