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…
Leaves fly down to hide the wounded earth,
And eagles fly up to scan the earth for themselves
To wound it even more
By scooping down on it
And taking away its parts.
Leaves fly down to hide the wounded earth.
But the wind wants to see that wounded body
And feel that intact soul.
The wind wants more
And he strips the earth off her foliage.
And he laughs at a body once supple and bright.
Now
A sack of bones
Creating sounds as it moves
Like dead sticks
Still dying...
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