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 see him;
A beast with his head in the clouds
And hands in the dirt;
Scouring the lakes with his might palms,
Catching schools of fish;
All wide eyed and panting much…
I see him;
Thighs like mountains,
Toes like shorelines;
Dirty and irregular with moss…
So mighty,
Yet some of the fish:
The ones which panic the most
Escape.
So mighty,
Yet some live to tell other fish,
Yet unable to tell other fish
Because all words spoken in water
Are the same…
All words spoken in water
Are bubbles…
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