BIRTHDAY ONE MORE STEP
TO APPROACH TO DEATH
Life – nothing, from nothingness
It came to exist.
Death – in life whatever it is
appreciation at the last minute.
life – where that goes
You know, went on the road.
Road – in piles with desire
Pity it was heart wrenching.
Love – out of the fence of your heart
a close one to the heartbreaking.
Birthday – one more step
to approach to death.
THIS LOVE IS STILL THREE –MONTH OLD BABY
This love is still three –month old baby
Its milky lips never tasted bitterness.
This world is like an angel in its eyes,
Still no devil slept on its way.
It is unaware of coming autumn or winter,
Still its smile is a bit fearful.
Its wishes and hopes didn’t touch stones,
Its heart is as touchy as a glass.
Still its hopes didn’t become empty,
Its wishes are sleeping in a golden cradle.
At nights angels sing a cradle song to it,
Each morning its dream is interpreted for good.
This love is still three –month old baby
It is setting a way towards longing.
Still it hasn’t reached to its destination
Hey, great Creator, reach out your hand.
THE FEELINGS AT THE “BLOOD BANK”
The smell of blood had settled
Both on the floor and on the ceiling.
There are pictures on the walls
Which are able to froze the blood in the veins.
On the other side of the window
Firstly the hopes
Then the prayers were falling.
It was possible to read from their appearance
What was inside of the people.
The destiny was weakening those
Who were in need of blood.
The heart of the doctor
Who was visiting the patients
Had run over.
The grief
Named as thalassaemia and haemophilia
Were thirsty for the blood.
The fates that was riding
On the halter of the death
Were at a step’s distance to the death angel.
The hopes that were not sowed were growing
My God, what purgatory is it?
Here a grave and blood
Are on the eye of the scales
For the first time in my life
I saw the color of the grief
On the face of a baby
Who was unaware of its grief.
