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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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Addiction

 


He runs to that thing

Like a zebra

Going to drink from a Savannah lake;

Murky water with twigs and leaves

And frequent bubbles,

And the croc from which he escapes...

No troubles...

Once more.

But he taunts it

Like swishing paper over a lighter;

Heating up

But never burning.

He taunts it

As if it's an old battle tank with legs,

Rusting away

Into even duller colours.

He taunts it

Until the jaw snaps more than just a chunk of air,

And the water turns even murkier,

And a head alone floats...

Sinking slowly..

Quiet,

Yet screaming.




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