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July 2026

Dreamroad

Türkçe·English
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Dreamroad
Image generated with ChatGPT

A three-stringed instrument in my hands,

I play it with my feet across the lands.

A few are listening where I stand,

I write my own song as I can.

Our eyes once met, but words feel strange,

Three parallel roads that never change.

The sounds are known, the words feel strange,

I step the road, I press the strings, rearrange.

My song keeps time with my heart's beat,

There's more than three strings where dreams meet.

The echo may stay — not my defeat,

I want to take my voice and leave this street.

I saw myself take to roads in a dream at night,

I woke cut loose from time and site.

Is this silence a dream or a falling flight?

No, I can't stay quiet — my song must fight.

I screamed to break the silence wall,

Rise, I said — eyes miss you, they call.

Roads long for you, they miss it all,

Home is exile now, strange and small.

You're no stranger now — they know your name,

Go to another city, write your song's new frame.

Call your dreamroad into life's claim,

Step into the dream, join life's game.

One song alone won't make a life,

Don't forget this song — you'll play it once a while.

One line alone won't make a tale,

Leave here, stir your water, let your story scale.

Springs and autumns, rebirths and death,

You pass through winters, you learn the ache.

You walk toward summers, you search for rest,

The tree of patience will give its fruit.

Keep watering — the right season will come.

Writing is my way of understanding myself and the world. Through essays and reflections, I explore identity, language, and transformation — the small moments that shape who we are.

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