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…
The factories create clouds
As if there isn’t enough already,
And I write down sadness
As if we've not had enough of it.
We all live
A genre-less song;
A Bohemian rapsody
Written by a man who did not show his weakness.
That weakness
Was anyway known.
We live too much
And die so much more.
We love so much
And hate so much more.
But we want the world
To not hate us.
How is that possible?
We are beaten up by ourselves,
And we cry by ourselves
Alone,
As if we don’t know anything;
As if we were caught by surprise.
But think back,
And we'll see how it started.
We’ll realise
We were the ones who knocked down
The first domino.
Comments
Post a Comment