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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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Death


The shadow of the graveyard cross

Stretching,

Growing,

Waning;

A single petal dying,

Crumbling,

Moving away from the others.

There's a candle in my hand

Almost flat;

About to melt through the palm and escape.

There's a candle in my hand

That I've to place on that grave;

That grave with a headless angel.

Was she smiling when she had a head?

Was she calm?

Can she still guard over the dead?

Or is their souls wandering the graveyard,

The cracked walls,

The tree with a hanging noose

Trembling ever so slightly

As if someone is hanging down

And struggling for the last time in their life...







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