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…
A white plate with a ribboned card,
The marble floor that looks back at me,
A quiet chill,
A candle with a lonely light
That adds gold to wine.
I see the waiter look at me
Like he has guns for eyes.
I wait,
As if someone will sit beside me
And talk their heart out,
And hear the pulse of mine
Which I try so hard to pump everyday
To keep me alive.
A white plate with a ribboned card,
The marble floor that looks back at me,
A quiet chill,
A candle with a lonely light
That adds gold to wine.
I can have all that
And still have no life.
My veins have become plastic tubes
And my eyes have become camera shutters.
I can have everything
And still have no life.
I can have everything
And still be alone.
Alone.
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