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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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Dying heart

 I walk on empty railroads

With a bleeding heart in my hand,

So that when the train comes,

I can leave it on the tracks and run.

It is dying slowly,

Leaking juice.

Why so much pain?

Why the slowness?

I just want to finish it fast.

It is better not to have a heart

That to carry one around that bleeds.

People can see the blood

And they complain

When it falls on them.

People can see the blood

And never ask where it comes from.

People can see the blood

And they are tired of wiping the floors where I walk.

They want me out of everywhere.

They don’t like to see my heart die like this,

Slowly,

Troubling them in the process.

So I walk on empty railroads,

Leave my heart there

And wait for it.


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