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…
There are bubbles in my blood
Constantly rising and popping like lava.
There are bubbles in my blood
Slowing down the blood itself,
Making the veins on my wrist rattle.
Here I am looking at the bare walls around me,
Such purity...
Such grace and quiet...
Yet on the inside,
Chains break
And the gears fall out...
Leaking oil everywhere.
The bubbles die
As the blood is now too thick to boil.
The bubbles die...
But I die too...
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