Poezja

We cannot think alike,
and we cannot listen together.
The words change the colours
and the colours let go their charm.
A billowing smoke
fills the space between us.
We are searching
our destinies amidst the ruins
and life hangs like an empty frame.

The jaundiced view,
mars the beauty of cognition.
I stick to my long path,
though journey is tough.
The immaculate space fills my lungs.
I feel the thick, stellar thoughts
and climb over the contradictions.
Balance breaks, becomes the faint window.

The disorder lies within.
Green moments evaporate
I wither up in veins.
Heart misses the beat.
Standing in dark I hear
the sounds of a deaf city.
My eyes search,
the letterprint of a tranquil childhood.