I See Poetry As Spiritual Medicine.

Without Hope We Are Lost.

Standing Here, Staying Here, Permanent Here, Eternal Here, And We Have One Goal, One, One: To Be.

My Homeland Is Not A Suitcase, And I Am No Traveller

Far Away, Our Dreams Have Nothing To Do With What We Do. The Wind Carries The Night, And Passes On, Aimless.

And You Became Like Coffee, In The Deliciousness, And The Bitterness, And The Addiction.