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…
I paint my face and keep telling people it's a new tattoo I got.
I paint my face and repaint it everyday.
Those wings should stay alive
And those eyes should always gleam;
The flowers will bloom
And the snow will bury them alive before they go dry.
The wind will calm,
And the wind will bring in killer waves.
But the eagle shouldn’t die;
Not even slowly.
I paint my face and keep telling people it's a new tattoo I got.
I paint my face and repaint it everyday.
This eagle shouldn’t die.
Because the confidence it gives
Is what keeps me going.
I'm tired of being myself.
It keeps me away from being something stronger than myself.
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