God, I wanted to be a poet
Yet, we both know
That the only thing I have to do with poetry
is its declamation and ethereal breath of wind
I will be honest with you
I don’t understand your poems
Neither do I care about their meaning
Scraping of a trembling voice
Overwhelming noise
I am again all alone
out of tune chaos gone
Wipe my eyes while
I am losing myself
In glory of deep tones
In spasms and cracks of words
I feel so high
I feel so low
This is what you made me for

In the desert of hopelessness, solitude,
dying of unimaginable thirst

Astray, exhausted pilgrims await
redemption
above thin air

gradually unveil
sweat-soaked
parts of their hidden identity

The last luscious mirage
lures to death
with fairy castles, fairy lands

Gaze of night - eye of depths

The last straw
broke the camel’s back