Night

And the evening kept whispering hopes…

and the pillow sweet and long dreams ;

Among the chains of presumptions

standing with clenched wet fists.

Thoughts swaying in waltzes

embracing the evening hue

And voices whispered sweetly

a voice of unburdening

It all seemed to be a fairy tale

and thread by thread he sewed the night

Beaten and weary

lying alive in the face of fate.

Unparalleled brilliance

Of the curtains in front of the door

Between the walls piled up

Stories run on the closed poplars

Colorless

born among the stars

They came slobbering through the windows

They lay in the veins..