Injustice to a Miserable Dreamer

Where history meets longing, A confession of a miserable dreamer longing for a place that feels untouchable.

Istanbul , dream of Mehmed,

land of chaos, buried beneath centuries.

A blue gem, glowing under veils of time,

you have seen power, seen death,

your walls once unbreakable 

bowed to the dream of a boy.

Oh, Constantinople, you are loved.

A dream of many,

but conquered by one.

What must it feel like to roam your soul?

Your river holds ancient secrets,

your streets echo the rule of empires.

How does it feel ;

to still stand, proud, after all these years?

The world once envied your greatness.

Just like Mehmed, I dreamed of you 

but not to conquer,

only to touch your soil like a lost soul.

That is the difference.

He dreamed and conquered.

I dreamed and was denied.

I am only a miserable dreamer.

O Constantinople, land of dreamers,

be wise have shame.

You once belonged to the lawgiver sultan.

Be fair now. Let me see you.

Let me, too, carve my name

into your timeless history.

Istanbul 

bear witness to my presence

for years to come.

Author's Note

Ignore any mistakes and grammer.