Crumbled Cities left behind | 2 Poems

Roads I know

Being a whisper in a land of hatred,
being a warm sight in a winters night,
as a child comes down the stairs,
and tells a story of its lonliness,
I take my road and head towards north.

There is nothing left behind,
I know everything is gone,
and from far away I hear your voice,
but are you really there?

Being far apart from everyone we lost now,
have my words ever made you happy?
have my being ever made you sad?
as a child I went down a cellar,
and nobody never saw me going down.

And I stumble across your pictures,
as I remember the short time we had,
that make me cry,
all along my journey to the end.

Our pictures now,
are floating through time,
as I saw you leaving.

Far apart from everyone we lost now.
giving away all what made you real,
being here in a land of strangers,
I begin to think what brought me here.

Being down here where my memories reside,
for changing houses, for getting old,
nobody told us how we could talk together,
nobody saw us crying,
the night comes fast,
as we head towards the end.

Being a wound in a land of fear,
being a cold look down a summers rain,
as a child stumbles from its stairs,
it crumbles, on its soul,
so you never understand.

As time is passing by,
roadsigns tell me why,
treetunks fell apart,
like lightnings in a night.

As our live is drifting apart,
birds tell me where to go,
my steps are crossing lines,
where names melting,
where friends shelting.

Being a door of dark,
being the left behind,
I close my fears and live along,
along my road,
into the night.

And now you know,
you will never find these pictures again,
It is all gone, it all died,
as we die too.

And for me I know my stars are taking me,
far away into space.

 

Lonely

As I am,
As my empty live a line, has gone,
forever, gone to never come back,
everything fell apart,
to a new beginning,
as the summer died,
I lied,
to myself.

And,
as the last birds flew back home,
I was watching you,
dancing in a field,
on your own.

As I came back home,
I saw birds showing me the road,
a life I never had,
being free to tell you why I cry,
to say whats the color of your eye.

 

 

 

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