Lonely loves the quiet.
Only open your eyes in the dark
If your senses fail and all hope
Is lost and finally you can't hold back
Anymore and ignore the noises
Which are really voices of your mind
That no one can decipher the language
As if they were blind, deaf, dumb
Where is the love?
Our thoughts giving life, bringing forth
the unreal, unseen from the pitch black
Hearts feel the unreal, unstillable beating
Our eardrums play on the pillow
Humming coming from the recesses
The closet doors creeking in your mind
The corners of your head heard something
Under the bed, nothing but your breath.
Exhale a calm sigh into the nervous night,
The anxious imaginations of your youth
Running wild. Living on while you die for the night
Are the words of what she said in the still hours
Leaving you powerless in a most feeble hour, unrest.
Unless morning comes with sunshine and her figure,
You will dream and remember:
Love hates the quiet night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sharing some of your 'subconcious' emotions and expressions somehow becomes a picture of reality after a'night'. Nice poem! You are one of a kind! ! !