***
Sometimes it’s raining.
The roar of the streets
and the morning light
all full of dust
have killed us.
Trying to imagine
how it could be,
I often watch the shadows
running from the end
and to the end.
With no end, the seconds...
And first of all I see
your face
through all the dust and fears.
Who cries for me
out there now?
Is there a place to cry?
Or is it just the void?
Sometimes it’s raining,
and that’s all I know.
© 30.06.2014
The roar of the streets
and the morning light
all full of dust
have killed us.
Trying to imagine
how it could be,
I often watch the shadows
running from the end
and to the end.
With no end, the seconds...
And first of all I see
your face
through all the dust and fears.
Who cries for me
out there now?
Is there a place to cry?
Or is it just the void?
Sometimes it’s raining,
and that’s all I know.
© 30.06.2014