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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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Can't death come quick?

 A flower fell off a bouquet,

And someone stepped on it.

And they all went about with their business.

But I can’t help but stare at it;

The act of hastening death.

Everyone went about their business.

But I can’t help but stare at it;

The dewless petals,

The red colour blackening with the creeping shadow of death,

The stalk separated from the head

Like with a guillotine.

It might have been plucked from it's family,

From the other flowers.

But it's okay.

They'll die as well.

It's just that this flower will die faster.

But in this world where everything happens in a rush,

Can’t death do the same?


Comments

  1. SuzanneCrainMillerMarch 9, 2021 at 4:09 AM

    Beautiful way to bring the larger subject of death to a small matter of a flower. Well done.

    ReplyDelete
  2. SoliloquyDecember 19, 2021 at 5:17 AM

    Very Nice

    ReplyDelete

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