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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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Spire


 My childhood was a skyscraper 

Buried in mist,

With only the blinking light on the spire

Still visible;

Scanning the landscape like a floating head,

Looking for more lights...

But all these is are clouds tripping on each

And falling on each other,

Growing thicker and thicker.

My childhood was a skyscraper 

Buried in mist,

With only the blinking light on the spire

Still visible.

But this is a building with green windows,

With people inside,

With a twisted spine 

Holding a pose like a nimble dancer 

Full of youthfulness;

Passionate tears in her eyes.

None of this is seen,

None of this is even tried to be felt

Under this forgetful mist.

My childhood was a skyscraper 

Buried in mist,

With only the blinking light on the spire

Still visible...


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