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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 noise of loneliness

 When they think of loneliness

They think of some hopeless man or woman

Crouching beneath a window

With no curtain,

In a room with wrinkled walls.

When they think of loneliness

They think of someone

Who is depressed,

Too tired to seek out interaction,

Too keen on thinking of suicide.

When they think of loneliness

They think of capable beasts locked in cages,

Bars without drunkards,

Wine glasses without wine.

But when I think of loneliness,

I see something else.

When I think of loneliness,

I think of myself in a crowd.

When I think of loneliness,

I think of noisy bars

And glasses overflowing with wine.

Loneliness is noisy.

It is peace that isn’t.


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