The hours rolled on without us counting them

and when everything overturned as we were playing

hide-and-seek with a moment’s fate,

we tried to avoid the city’s lights.

 

We had to keep our breathing tight,

tottering in these difficult hours,

diving in the ocean of underground glances.

 

We were grieving for the untouched pregnant wound

we were angered by the unexpected death

of a night butterfly in the harbour’s depths

we succumbed to the brains of those science experts

giving them our being as a spark

on the burned pages of our life.

 

It was cold on these bridges

under our fearful eyelids

as the night stood implacable

and crossroads of next day betrayed us.

 

Something broke on the pavement

of our inner existence

and we were left to befall nothing

as the unexpected encircled us

like a knife, it cut us in two

a chopped moon and a pale truth.

 

It was not the silence scared us

but a sound struck as a cry

of our errors who walked in a blind course

as the desperate rain

fought to compete in the broiling heat.

 

What truth can we hide

and in which boat can we board,

which remnants of our senses can we rescue

and which of our ashes can we chase away without hesitation?

 

Which narrow streets of the abyss

of our fate and youth can we follow

and which laughter should we wear

when this night’s shiver

doesn’t allow us to live

the joy of the life’s overflowing glass?