I think you could have been an extraordinary friend.
A smile to keep, a helping hand.
But in the end you chose to step away,
Leaving me heartless, leaving me prey.
Your words have touched and maybe drowned a few,
How could I know? I wish I knew
The darkness and the whole despair within,
The tragic words, the sweetness of the sin.
You dig me holes, in which I voluntarily fall.
You never knew me. You never knew it all.
Life’s but a bittersweet assortment of the things
I knew and loved and all that’s left are kings.
Arhive etichete: poem
What’s Love Got To Do With It
What’s love got to do with it,
you keep asking in the dead of night.
I’m sick of all that fright,
and all the might,
and the taste of your bite,
and I can’t see the light.
Your tongue is whipping me,
and you can’t hear my plea.
What’s love go to do with it?
Last
I miss being the only child
Who likes to feel the only drop of rain,
The last drop of sorrow,
The last breath of tomorrow,
The last red of the vein,
The last call of the wild.
emptiness
his eyes are lost
in shadows and frost.
his body is empty,
his fingers – not twenty.
all that’s forgotten,
the worms in the cotton,
the skin is all sodden,
his soul, it is rotten.
there’s no memory left,
only the pillage and only the theft.
-ing
Knocking down walls
With my poor choice of words,
Spitting them with bloods
Of higher angels and of lords,
Making me shiver
Inside this body of dust,
Chewing my own liver
And throwing up my trust.
Losing the life
I once lived alone,
Swallowing the knife,
The water and the stone,
Living again
In vain.
Svetlana
Svetlana, I hated you when I was little.
You marked my boy, you bitch of brittle!
I hated you when he was lost and crying,
And when he still loved you while he was dying.
Svetlana, I do not even know you,
But do you know the damage that you do?!
I just heard your name out loud
And here you are, just like a cloud.
Svetlana, won’t you go away?
Be gone, be there, be stray.
I hate you cause I hate myself,
And I think I need some help.
Sarut
Sarut de menta, sarut de vara,
Sarut aprig de fata de la tara,
Plimbata-n praf si-n iarba de afara,
Cand te-oi vedea eu iara?
Sarut de soare, sarut de mare,
Sarut satul de-atata plimbare
Prin sate necunoscute si amare,
Dupa nori si cer si zare.
Sarut de cald, sarut uscat,
Sarut pe cine mi te-a dat
Si, poate, pe cine te-a lasat
Pe franghia dorului la pat.
