Secret Springs

Below are poems I wrote between 2016 and 2020. They represent all my poems, but in fact, whenever I read one of these poems, I feel that they are poems for future generations, and no one can read these poems now because they came from secret springs.I know things I don't understand, come closer, voice, give me enough chance. My language is split like the limbs of a wounded martyr. Alienation is killing me. I feel that I belong to future generations. My blood has hidden them in an old museum. The word has a thousand wings that fills me with fear. How can I see?