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Loud Rain

The rain is loud now, As if a giant feet arises from the clouds To step on the river under the bridge of my heart And disturb it in such a way That the sails of ships bend, And the water touches the bridge from below, Tickling it to sorrow… The rain is loud now, But actually, it has always been like this. You were there once, And I never felt it. But now, All there is Is this sorrow That tickles me from inside, As if it wants me to laugh, Yet doesn’t let me At the same time…
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Bad days and a burning tree

 The bad days were like molten iron.

But they passed

Like the blurring of lights after waking up

That no one remembers.

The bad days happened

And more bad days happen.

There is chaos only when the forest is on fire.

But there is only one tree

In me.

And I burns alone

Without burning anything else.

There is only one tree

In me

And it burns,

Spitting out fiery birds that take off to kiss the air that swallows them.

There is only one tree

In me,

And it burns and collects as ash

At the bottom of my heart.

This ash is my pigment.

I mix it with imagination

And make ink to write.


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