Who invented letters in which ink dies?
They run out so fast
The more you write, the chances they have are negligible
Their lives are like a shot
And we kill them for our darlings
in their presentations, simple, and not very, and complex
And we write, and we write … and we write
Who needs these letters? to whom? tell!!!!!
Say, silence is cruel!!!!
But silence …. everything is quieter … and quieter …. and quieter ….
And so one-sided…
We hurt the leaves, snow-white thin life
They are always so defenseless in the light
We cut them with a pen, and then sprinkle them with tears
And we make slabs of them monolithic
To whom are these letters? For someone who doesn’t remember you?
To whom are these letters? To the one for whom you are not?
To whom are these letters?… Soundless moonlight…
Today he is the main pilgrim
Who Invented Letters? who held a lot and exploded?
Or maybe he still survives and wants to help
and revives us? no one else will give up
but just wrote and threw the letters out into the night?
It’s easier. Believe me, it’s true, it’s easier
And sleep slowly comes later
And the candles burn and do not fade forever
And the house becomes cozy again
The moon outside the window, and the lunar, bright in the Heart
And the memory no longer torments, and quieter Soul
Then it passes … But again the Moon … Warmed up
And look out the window, breathing a little.
Lonely letters clutched in hand
Caught inside lonely thoughts
And the chest is trying to squeeze harder
and again, and again, the eyelashes became limp …
Forgive me… Today I am the Chief Assassin…
And thousands of letters left the night window…
And my plates fell into defenseless faces
night moths…