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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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Arrows

Arrows make the walls beautiful
And the roads symmetric and ugly.
Arrows mark streets and hit hearts.
Arrows empower samurai and hit targets.
Arrows give maps direction
And takes the same away from life.
Arrows guide
And arrows bend
And arrows strike.
Arrows stay
And arrows move
And arrows guide
And arrows misguide.
So maybe we should ditch the arrows
And draw lines where we walk,
So that they may travel in both ways,
And not just the direction we took.

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