Ruins,
I am ruined,
I ruin you and me,
Ruins,
I'm in ruins,
Trusting only me,
Ruins,
I have ruined,
The glue in between,
Ruins,
Oh, I ruin,
Every path that crosses me.

I don't know what to do with it all,
the flowers, the elephant and the
ruins under my feet.
The long and brooding presence.

It is clear that I haven't come to grips
with this upsidedown world. I shouln't have
saved all these goodbyes (at the end, all die
and their ghosts will never leave you).

I saw you floating today and I found
how hard it is to scream underwater.

I believe… that the night hides abyss of silence,
fleeting butterflies swirls and bends over my eyelashes,
gloomy shadows, shuddering cavalcades of emotions,
the seed of light breaks down the tangled paths of life …

I believe... that nostalgia has the perfume of a rainbow
what strikes the unwritten verse between my lips,
with withered sounds resonating on the alley of life
the noisy clinker wants the world to amuse ...

I believe... that the water's murmur reflects bulbs of light,
the sad dance of the autumn cuts the road to ruins,
the trembling forest, dry, now deeply broken,
wants to mourne in front of heaven, making things right  ...

I believe... that springs will mirror in the quiet waters,
the serene sighs will once whisper my name,
to disturb the calm of warm hours with a charming smile,
to turn on the desire with his mouth hungry for love ...

the world

was nothing but ruins

a future

no one wanted

it came in words

in letters

in the fists thrown by many

as if 21 guns

as said in the song

shot out at once

but no arms were in surrender

just blood everywhere

tears on every childs face

corpses of families everywhere

if only

we could've known

this was preventable

this could be solved

with just the words

I'm Sorry

these ruins

are our present

if only

we could go back

to our not so ruined past

I am a debris
Of what you built inside that
I prayed for eons

She, who hides in the shadows
Wearing several mask on her face
Observe her rigid scaly hands
She lives in a dark lonely place
Away from the wickedness
In her own world of sorrow
Each day she gets near a grave
Doubting if the sun will rise tomorrow
Her eyes, sunken like a dried well
Neither a single drop of tear,
Pours down her wrinkled face
Nor a single sign of worry and fear,
One can ever imagine to trace
It's hard to tell, what weighs more
As my eyes sees her outside pain
Inside must be a ruin of memories
Like a barren land, without rain
She lost everything and everyone
Now she's almost like a living tomb
The landslide during an earthquake
Buried her family in the natures womb
Once lively, full of lifes happiness
One disaster, and everything fell apart
Shocked of being alive and alone
Shattered was her fragile heart...

©sim

Everything still exists,
and will continue to exist.
Every ruin, illegible or destroyed or altered
is here-
Not alive, but present.
Today,
we have heritage sights and landfills.
History is a Waste of our time.
It sticks like tar
in the Earth’s lungs.
I stood before the Great Pyramids
and I wondered if my
great grandchildren’s great grandchildren
will do the same when
our past stacks as high