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Loneliness remains like a hole. To fill it you have to create another hole, either for yourself or for another. Loneliness is like a pit. Some people fall into it. Then they print the card. Invite people to a party. People come and congratulate them and return to their holes at night. The two also dig a little hole after a while and ...

Loneliness is the same hole. Sometimes the hole is bigger. Some holes are always sunny. Some people are gathering snow in the pit. Inside some of them, rainbows. Poets became fish. Poor poets, Poor little red fishes. They die to make the rest of the table more beautiful. They die to other enjoy. Poor fishes.

There is so much sadness in these days that the language is incapable of expressing it. It can be seen on the street in the faces. They are not happy at all. They are thinking of eating the night. When you're hungry, it's hard to think. Being happy is hard. When you are alone, it's hard to have a party in your heart. At this time awakening is hard. It's almost impossible to see. There is nothing to see! There is nothing to hear! Only darkness This is the time of darkness.
It's a time when the sparrows shelter their mother's arms. They do not sing. They do not rejoice. Do not fly on branches or trees. They are crying. They are scared. They are afraid of the size of this catastrophe. They are afraid of tomorrow. They are afraid of seeing their mother inside the cage. Tulips do not flower in the spring. They are hidden under the soft soil. The sky is always rainy. The clouds want to wash this darkness, but regrettably, that it has been thrown on the shoulders of this nation as endless fatigue. The lamp can not be found. The light in the house is dead. Fire from the cold of this winter can not flame.

Don't take the risk to think, its strangely date darling. The person who is behind the door, he has come to kill the light. The light should be hidden in the corner of the house. The butchers are deployed in the streets with bloody eaters. It's strangely time darling. Must hide the joy in the corner of home. Canary Kebab on Fire of Lily and Jasmine. It's strangely time darling. The drunken devil is sitting on a table from our mourning. Must hide the god. God should be hidden in the corner of the home.