شراب صد ساله ...

i am sad
Like a hundred-years-old wine
which is buried in a corner
Forgotten
And no one can see its red color behind the darkness of its container
And his drunkenness resolves itself
And again with the beat of the sad sound around him
becomes conscious
And drunk again...
And no one knows that his heart
How does it bleed?
I wish someone would drink me
and make me comfortable
From drunkenness and awareness of one's own essence

I know that the memory of this continuous red suffering will never be erased from my suffering heart

But it's good that there is an end to everything
Even for a single hundred-years-old wine


🕊 Mahraneh Mehranam 🕊