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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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The creeper

 I see a window,

And I see the vines creeping up on it.

I see a window with a border or bricks

Ashened by the grey winter

And grayer eyes that look at it.

I see a window,

And I see the vines creeping up on it.

One day it creeps in through the sill

And gently touches the pane,

Cracking it.

Another one creeps up from the top

And gently touches the pane,

Shattering it.

Now the creepers grow robust and slimy and thick,

Like a kraken bringing a ship down.

Now the creepers grow robust and slimy and thick,

And go for the little baby asleep in the crib...




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