Soul On Palms Poem by Amer Jag

Lonely steps through the misty streets
of uncommon town, and sparkling blessings
from sleepy moon,
shower my existence together with this autumn rain
that flows through the space
carried on the wings of northern winds.

Oh, where do your eyes look at this moment
to which palms you confidently offered your soul
to be falsely cuddled,
and ruthlessly abandoned with first sounds of tomorrow's dawn?

Accompanied by high smoke
emerging through my mouth
yell, for your affection
silently disappears within me.