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…
My heart had been on cloud 9,
But then it crashed into lonely woods
Like a biplane
With its blade stuck in the ground,
And its head smashed in
As if stepped on by some mighty being
That doesn’t care to look down…
My heart lies in the lonely woods
Like a biplane
Overgrown with moss
That has turned yellow,
Red
And dead;
Overgrown with vines
That pull down this dead metal,
This log,
This wingless fly
Like a kraken taking down a ship
With its tentacles,
But slowly,
Keeping it above
Until its stomach rumbles
On being filled
With mere air.
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