Poezja

Non-thinking was a tremendous effort, 
I scratched the years one by one. 
Between you and me was a river, 
it has gone now. 
Are you beyond the imagination? 
My eyelids bleed, 
and there is a painful punctuation. 
 
Give me fireflies, 
it is too dark here. 
The future tense, 
is not relevant now. 
Present is very tense. 
Books fail to open the lyrics. 
I am lonely in the prints. 
Life makes a big leap 
for the sake of splash. 
 
I place the candles in the wind, 
away from the home, 
which never was. 
Going where the memories, 
had seedless interior. 
Emptiness sings for space 
refuses to be filled in.