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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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Melancholy of a forgotten book

 How often do you come near me?

To pick up a pen or forgotten key

And you find what you come for

It is always me that you ignore

 

I want to stretch my chest

And start again your knowledge quest.

All my pages, they want some air

And a gentle human touch and care.

 

How long ago, I cannot tell.

But my yellow pages you used to smell.

Now they collect dust and woe,

Waiting for a gentle pat and blow

 

One day you will set me free

When you feel empty without me

But you’ll still be depressed and bored

For many pages the bugs might’ve devoured


(I was young when I wrote this and gave too much importance to the rhyming😅🙃)

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