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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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The pain we all go through

 Pull this out of the fire

With bear hands,

And let it roll down your arms

Gently like honey drops.

Pull this out of the fire,

But don’t wait for the pain to go away.

It never will,

It never has for anyone.

In this pain,

Try to look into a Rorschach ink blot.

In this pain,

Try to interpret what it means.

You'll get nothing.

The eyes see the pain,

The ears hear the pain,

The skin feels the pain.

Pain unites the senses.

It is a language

All senses understand.

It is a language

That makes you forget yours,

Wipes your mind clean.

The Rorschach

Will mean nothing to you.

You see only pain.

And everyone judges you when you’re in pain

Without knowing that you are drowning,

That you're being consumed into your own bog.

Maybe they should remove the Rorschach

And lend a hand.

Maybe they should keep quiet

And help.


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