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…
I descend the Chapel stairs
And see a bouquet on the ground;
Stepped on..
The flowers fading,
And the white ribbon loose
Like it’s been tied around a bundle of hair
Once lush and pompous.
I descend the Chapel stairs
And see a bouquet on the ground
Thrown there in such violence...
The petals falling like tears of parting;
Tears due to some broken cup not glued,
Some quiet note on the piano,
Some hole in the wall
That lay unaddressed...
Covered up by a beautiful painting
For the guests to see...
Never repaired,
Never realized...
But always there.
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