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Growing up,I wantedto become a writer,Finally, I grew upand became one without a title.That is why I write,Because I am searching for a lingual acceptancein my loneliness If I don’t write about myselfwho will?Nobody,wants to writeabout a Poetwho was creative in writingbut never created a lifeout of himself. I knewI could never be a doctor,But…


Through these lenses,This looks like that a film,Chasing faces, traces from the Unbound emerge.From a bird’s eye view, scenes from a crocodile’s tear image. I’ve held enough stories but only one hugged my intuition,Recorded in my brain as BMR’s Best Memory Ever.Watching this Cinema as it unfolds. It all began when I finished myself by…

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