She is alive and every day she realizes how much life is worth living.
Empty promises linger, casting shadows over trust. Cast down by whispers, each word becomes a thrust. Looking for honor but finding only deceit.
By Nazli Can9 days ago in Poets
note: after I wrote this poem yesterday, today I was fired without even knowing it. life. https://vocal.media/poets/if-only-there-were-no-ifs-2
By Nazli Can16 days ago in Poets
Now I've made a decision Another lifetime gone from my life Filled with fear and anger He pushed me down a deep well Yes, I work here.
By Nazli Can17 days ago in Poets
„When I woke up, something felt different. I...felt?!“ And when they were bored of cruising with their bikes through the desolated village center, sick of playing stick and stones in the mud, they used to imagine new adventures in the old, dark forest. The trees behind the village were uninvitingly mysterious; perfect for a young band of brothers and their schemes.
By Nazli Can23 days ago in Fiction
Is it easy, do you think, to work where love has faded? To thicken the veil behind which my honesty is paraded, To no longer feel the thrill of a new dawn breaking,
By Nazli Can23 days ago in Poets
Eclipsed moments, where light dims to reveal, Celestial ballet, where twilight softly steal. Light obscured, yet in darkness, truths unseal,
By Nazli Can26 days ago in Poets
Bread, with each touch, becomes a haven, Lentil soup, with its enveloping aroma, Finds its place in my child's heart as a friend, a companion.
By Nazli Canabout a month ago in Poets
Just after midnight, in the old neighborhood of the Immortal City, in the upper floor of a two-story, historic house, a room was enveloped in silence. Yet, this silence lasted only for a brief moment. Zeyda, tossing and turning in her bed, was experiencing another sleepless night; her face etched with an expression mixed with fear.
By Nazli Canabout a month ago in Fiction
Isn’t it strange, my yearning for the yolk of an egg, As a child, it was breakfast’s cherished ache. Now, it’s my father I miss,
“Mom, sweetened yogurt!" I would call out at certain times of the day. Perhaps when she was deeply engrossed in work.
