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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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All I had was yours

 


I sit on the park bench alone,

And feel my heart quiver…

The birds twitter,

The newspaper flutters,

Trying to lift off in vain.

I sit on the park bench alone,

And feel something etch my heart

As the crumbled paper is pushed by the wind

Towards the bin,

Rasping as it moves along…

I sit on the park bench alone,

And search myself for substance.

I discover

That I have nothing.

All the smiles,

The tears,

The sunshine and subtle touch…

All the grey clouds,

And bright orange rhythms

That constituted my heartbeats

Are no longer there.

There is no flower,

No dew,

No music,

No madness…

Because I have nothing

And all I had

Was yours…


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