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Poetry

Ghost of a suicide note

 

 

January 5, 2007
iranian.com.

 

moments are long
long and painful
in alien cracks of life
I lie

music of the winter is
playing behind my icy
little window

God is not
soul is a hypothesis
and I do not know
the meaning
of myself

thrown into a reach
beyond the sea
I have no ground
no loving confidante
and the faces of people
and buildings
are flat

I taste the shadows
the sadness, the dark
the absence of the moon
the tall black buildings
the enraging music
from afar
and the deep
of my nothingness

under the eclipse
of the Lady Sun
spook of savage beasts
chasing butterflies
and my life
holds on to
nothing

my feet touching
nowhere
I stand above
a sigh

here I die
in a place
of no meaning
to me
the penthouse
of a high-rise building
at the heart
of a metropolis
abroad!

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