gelemez

The bittersweet hop of the night, in which words are late and feelings burn out prematurely. Here, everything is like dried flowers in an old vase: once promising life, now only a reminder of buried hopes. The walls erected between hearts are painted in beautiful colours, but they remain walls nonetheless.

It sounds like a confession to someone who became both the greatest prayer and the gravest sin. Hundreds of faces - white days, light touches - and one person gets the blackest night. And there is a strange attraction in this blackness: you want to run away, but your feet lead you back to the one who hurts you and calls you.