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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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Suicide and crime


 I see cameras and reels and red boxes

Placed against the brown wall,

With a single shaft of yellow light

Which highlights the dust

Flying like fairies...

As mythical.. 

As the cameras, reels and red boxes themselves;

All stuff of legend

That have become useless overtime.

I see cameras and reels and red boxes

Placed against the brown wall.

And a mouse runs through and over,

Kicking back a lens

That rotates

And moves to the edge

And stays there,

Ready to fall down and break...

Falling down.. 

Breaking..

Thrusting into someone's foot...



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