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…
Some people are transparent fires
We forget to pour water on.
They burn
But no one sees.
No one realise they exist
Until they smell their clothes burn;
Until they see their skin burn and part.
But realising it at the last moment
Is useless.
You cannot tell anyone.
All you can do at the last moment
Is scream.
You'll burn into ash
And turn into wind
Before people arrive
Hearing you scream.
And you'll have warned
Nobody.
And nobody will know
About the people who are transparent fires
No one pours water on.
And they go on doing their job.
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