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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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A quiet pulse

 


I look at you smile

And see a painting;

A lifeless resemblance

With static shadows and blinding lights...

Brighter than the real thing...

A lifeless resemblance having life

If you look at it from a distance;

A distance that hides the subtle strokes,

The gaps between the dots,

The mistakes...

I look at you smile

And see a painting

Resembling the real thing,

Yet imperfect enough

To be even more lovable...

Imperfect enough

To delight...

Like a weeping song

Making the heart buzz with joy...

Like rough tides

Washing away moss

Until more of them grow around...

Like the darkness that traps the moon, 

But making the night beat with graceful life...

A quiet pulse,

An unfelt quake...

Imperfect enough

To be lovable...


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