By Dr. Adnan Bozan

Don’t ask me how I’m doing... As always, I’m writing.

I write not to answer, but to strip the question of its false mask. I write…

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By Dr. Adnan Bouzan

On a night that lay gently upon the eyelashes of time, in a far corner of the room, where solitude dwells like a weary lover, I s…

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By Dr. Adnan Bozan

There is a moment in which words are not born—but buried. A moment when silence becomes fuller than all the languages of the earth…

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By: Dr. Adnan Bouzan

In exile, not only do homelands break... but language breaks too.
And in the breaking of language, existence is reshaped.

Exile…

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By Dr. Adnan Bozan

There are realms between thought and feeling—spaces where philosophy meets poetry, where the scent of contemplation mingles with…

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By Dr. Adnan Bozan 

March… that visitor who knocks on the doors of the heart with a blend of hope and longing, carrying within its folds the ecstasy…

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By: Dr. Adnan Bozan

Here I stand at the edge of silence, counting my breaths as a passerby counts their steps on an abandoned sidewalk.

I am fine..…

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By Dr. Adnan Bouzan

In the vast fields of life, stretching like a canvas of light and shadows, the heart bears fruit only from what its owner has so…

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By: Dr. Adnan Bozan 

O homeland, the ceiling you have built over our heads has become lower than it should be, forcing our foreheads to bow unwilling…

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By: Dr. Adnan Bozan 

In the corridors of the night, when voices fade and cities grow quiet, the doors of memory swing open, and life overflows with t…

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