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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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Tragedy


 Many black hands on the walls;

A struggle

To push the walls over

And explore.

The caged bird wants to fly

And the kite in the tree

Wants to wind to carry it away.

Many black hands on the walls;

A struggle

To see what is on the other side.

We keep pushing

Until the dirt sticks to the walls completely

And our palms bleed,

And the walls will drip with bloody palm prints,

Until the blood drips so much

That they no longer look like palms.

They'll inspect

And find not even a single palm print.

And they'll say we never tried.


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