During the monsoon, all my raindrops drag me

Towards the fast lane of memories.

Taking with all the skies and the stretched blues.

Feeling not like the dead warriors

But the first saint under the young sun.

One day when we were dancing together

Hovering on the untold secrets of the battle fields

All the dead pawns of world history

From the past to the present

Mimicked us under the tone.

 

I have seen the first smile of the antithesis of God.

Not only the everyday hypothesis lies

But all the dead philosophies under the religious cult

Fooled us every time we thought

We have found Him.

 

Talking about the story of love all my raindrops

One day came to me.

We were so proud of each other

Touching the pride of faith;

Yet all the dead souls of cathedrals

Mimicked us underneath.

 

And then I have seen the first smile

Of the whispering secretes of life

Drawing the first sketch of the antithesis of God,

During our everyday monsoon.

 

27th April 2014