It’s quite enough…

The small drops of soft snow are falling down from the cotton-like clouds in the sky and melting on my eyelashes and the lines on my hands… I see a small piece of green grass on the ground but the snow soon devours this variety of colour… No movement, no sound, no… Only snowdrops… slowly and silently… freezing my hands and my heart… No colours… no songs… no Renaissance…

 

I’m sick and tired of winter…

 

The colourful leaves fall down slowly and silently… I see the same green piece of grass on the ground but it again disappears in the colours of the fire… Red and orange leaves are falling down on my head and my arms… Burning my brains and scorching my heart: red leaves burn my red heart, orange leaves turn into ashes my orange dreams… Green leaves are too far and dead to see all this…

 

I’m sick and tired of autumn…

 

Such a pity that my heart has two halves…

Winter is in one half of my heart, autumn in the other one… one half of my heart is white, icy and frozen, the other one is red, burning and covered with orange flame… These two halves hate each other and try to demolish themselves with their hatred…

 

I’m sick and tired of this war with myself…

 

I don’t need a whole valley of flowers, dandelions and butterflies…

A daffodil is quite enough…

 

I don’t need a church full of white doves…

One waving white flag is quite enough…

 

I don’t need a world of kindness and summer…

One loving heart is quite enough…

 

I don’t need someone- pure and innocent…

A faithful soul is quite enough…

 

I don’t need a thunderstorm and an expensive book to write what I think…

A sheet of paper and a pen are quite enough…

 

I don’t need wealth and fame…

Someone to read my words written on the sand or a sheet

 

of paper is  quite enough…

 

I’m sick and tired of lies and dreams…

What I’ve already had is quite enough…

 

The rain and the dust…

The rain is pouring on my left shoulder… The left half of my face is welled up with tears… but, no, those are not mine… They belong to someone else… not to me and not to you… not to the day and not to the sun… Those are the tears of the rain welling the left half of my face… pouring on my left shoulder… on the left shoulder and the left hand… And do you know why? – Because my heart is in the left part of my chest… But you will never be able to understand this… again why? – because you don’t know what a heart is…. because you will never look at yourself in the mirror and feel sth. beating in the left part of your chest…
The rain is pouring on my left shoulder, covering my arm and hand with its sweet tears… While my right hand is writing sth. on the layer of the dust on the floor… while my right eye is not crying anymore.. I know that you will again ask why, so here’s the answer – because my right hand is here just to write the following lines on the layer of the dust…

“You thought I would become a mad,
You thought without you I’m too sad,
You thought I’d lose my heart and head,
On seeing one day love is dead,

But see what happened in the end:
Your love is dead, my heart is bad,
But I’m alive and not afraid,

I’ll keep my heart through pouring rain,
I’ll keep my heart through hurting pain,
I’ll keep my heart over again,
And victories my heart will gain,
Away from you I’ll keep my heart ,
Heartbroken girl is not my part,

If you’re the night, I am the day,
If you’re the fright, I am the way
To lead my heart so far away,
To save my eyes from yours that say;

“I never loved you, it’s a game,
You lost in it and you can blame
Your heart for being just a frame
For endless love and burning flame.

It’s not my fault that you believed
That I could really feel a love,
It’s not my fault that I have lived
My thorough life as a black dove,
Without a heart, without a day,
Without an ocean or a bay.

It’s not my fault that now I did,
Did break your heart, just it was stupid
To have believed me in that way,
And these my eyes that used to say:

“Just do believe these words if mine,
It’s not of whisky, nor of wine,
I say to you, I mean, I do,
I love you now, I love today,
I’ll love until today turns grey,
And even after it is gone,
I’ll love again with rising sun…”
Soon the rain reaches the dust on the floor and clears away these lines from me, deleting you from my heart and memory just like a washed line on the layer of the dust…

 

 

Teach me

Now teach me please how love is killed,
How love is killed, forgotten, thrilled,
How life is turned into a dream,
How rope becomes a single steam.

Now teach me please how to forget,
To stay alone but not regret,
To make my soul a pinch of ashes,
My mind- an archive, heartbeats- clashes .

You think life ’s easy to erase,
To leave away like an old phrase,
If asked can you replace your heart?,
To make it beat with halves apart,
To make it push another blood,
Then rush again with smoother flood…

If not what have you to demand,
To make me fall but never stand,
Your words are sounds my heart can’t find,
It’s speechless, wounded, deaf and blind.

You think it’s crime, it’s fault, it’s sin
To love someone by “love” I mean,
To dream of love, to live by dream,
To breathe by love, to think of him…

No, wait a while, I understood,
You’ve never loved, you never could,
Love’s never hit you, never found,
But soon it will, it’s quite around.

It says am here, I’m not gone,
In search of you, you are the one
I’m bound to hit you my good friend,
To show the thing you never had.

When finding love remember me,
Remember you and try to be,
The one you are right now, right here,
The one beside me but not near…

 

 

 

Phantoms…

What happens to the paper
When the words disappear,
When there are no ways left,
When the sun is getting older…

What happens to the fall,
When the rain becomes a bottle,
And swears to stay in the pantry of pain
Till the world shrinks into a rain drop…

What happens to the craze of lights,
When the colors get lost in the dark,
When your dreams become a dot
In a black and white painting…

Who lives there in the world
When you heart becomes a breathless shell,
Which winds dance around the hair of clouds
When the songs decide to hush their sounds…

When your soul turns into a handful of sand
And lies motionless on the bottles of life,
Which desperate hearts stifle their pain
In the flawless streams…

When your breath is getting robbed,
What flies there in your lungs,
When the air turns into flames
And burns you…

Now see what happens to me
When my soul desires to gulp down
The liquid of life in the lost pantry of rain
And never get alive anymore…

When it’s not scared of getting burnt to ashes
When it’s nor scared of getting vanished
In the endlessness of fall
Amid the darkness…

When it is just a sound
That can’t be heard anymore,
When the motions stop,
When there is no time left for prayers…

 

I forgive

I forgive you for my being weak in front you,
I forgive you for all the springs you robbed,
For all the springs you killed
For all the springs you turned into colorful ashes…

I forgive you for my trying to cross the bridges all the time,
For never looking back,
For running,
For erasing you
And for never hating…

Now I throw all those bridges into the sea of forgetfulness,
I steal back my soul
And leave the fogs only for you.
I leave the frozen dreams for you
Those dreams that will never forget you,
That will make you feel cold when you dare to forget…

Now I make my errors merge
With the melting stones of my vanishing bridge of past,
Now leave like an error
Or get lost, get frozenly forgotten…

I forgive you for my mistakes,
I forgive you for my dreams
I forgive you for yourself
I forgive you for not knowing how to say “forgive me”…