VERSE
Read by: Şenol Erdoğan & İlker Savaşkurt
Shot & Edit : İlker Savaşkurt
A man approaches...
...with an ant cemetary face.
(He) Blesses the book with a fear of curse of being
House of wrinkled, saggy breasted Muslim,
He, desperate deaths, the weird floods, ...
...just in the middle, breathlessly on the horns of disaster,...
...(he)  impregnates the womb of ominous night.
A man approaches...
...already dead of living.
It's a man, screams innerself.
Mortal and defeated.
In the paleness of sallowed lights,
That it burns and burnt.
Mauling the acts,
Eyes are witness for ferity in one breath...
...tatter in a breaht,
vivid in a breath, moment.
It's a glory, rises on his right hand,...
...that man falls back to womb without any pain and naked.
A man approaches...
...last time, further the dreams.
Dreams stabbing silent...
...wherever (he) looks to his ends,
Those calcic, rigid ends...
...he seeks for beginnings like a sickness.
Those dawns,
Crucial ascents of delusions.
From fervent and drawning cities,
from untimely suicide setups of the sun in the attics...
...from insistences, faiths,
to dreadful ends...
...with scentless pains.
Rain hid the night in its wet curtain...
...harvested laughters from graves.
God is late to judge the disgraces.
Guiltiness has gone, 
only guilt remains.
Orders in, appetites cut off...
...verdicts given, books concealed...
...and debts buried to orphan grounds.
A man, he is midget now ,...
...lost his giants.
It's the only parade of the night, no repetition, ...
...a train flow on invisible rails.
VERSE
