You are absent here.

Hey my poet,
its the time in our life for dream weaving,
But now also
my clothes are white, blank.
I donnno, did i love anyone?
Do you know where i lose my colors?
How you'll know, you were facing the most violent storm of love.
Your absence is inured now.

Its raining, raining, raining,
everytime.
Not the rain which comes and wipes out everything.
She comes and makes a feel of comfort.

In the empty corridor,
There is a gangrenous smell.
I tried to find out its origin and reached
where i threw the lyrics of my loneliness.
But now i understand,
these lyrics gave me the most wonderful poems.

You know, its fun here, in life.
Wonderful days, lonely nights,
Books, Songs, Dreams, Fights,
Rain, Love,
Me.
No madness,
Full of wildness.
But, everything leaves the feelings of
some unknowing, upcoming distraction.

But now,
Am happy in the lucid fraction of life.
.