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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 emptiness within

 A tattooed woman sits naked,

Hiding her breasts.

Her hair is purple,

And hands green.

A tattooed woman sits naked,

With wild hair,

And a penetrating gaze at the world

That made her this.

Not that this is bad,

Not that this is good.

But this is a heart that does not feel pain,

A soul immune from suffering.

Is it good?

Is it bad?

Who knows?

But it is visible in the emptiness of her gaze,

The aimlessness of her moment,

The hunger of her heart.

This lion has torn her apart.

This lion has shared her

With other lions

Who are not from the same pride.

Is she good?

Is she bad?

Who knows?

But I know

She's empty.

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