Phases Poem by Soran M. H

Do not die on this harsh day
Weary fingers will not be able to
Wipe away frozen tears
Upon the eyelashes of the shores of vision
Colors are no longer distinguishable
Thoughts flutter black and white
Everything is fragile
Passing by you like a headless wind
Sometimes a hand covers your face
Lest lips nor move again
From the tedious sights,
You no longer recognize the faces of passersby
Two as far can see walk slowly
As if treading on the eggs of life
The sound of a rooster crowing and a butcher's knife
Mix with their voices
As if a conversation beneath the waves
Melodies without meaning
And does speech always have a face?

One of them wishes to be the one who is asleep awake
While the other utters extraordinary words
Did you not see the bird that flew from the cage of its chest?
Two steps back, then look.
Autumn has settled on the branches.
Don't let the leaves of your shirt fall.
If you get lost,
Disappear.
Less than a lose.
Traffic will not stop for a coffin
Swaying with that remorseful sun
That fell into the horizon's hole.
Tomorrow it will rise early with a sleepy eye
As if it hadn't tasted the bitterness of departure
Making the shadows of the gravestones darker than yesterday.
A mere glance is enough.
Soon you find yourself overcome by drowsiness
Engaged on the arm of a notch.
The destination is far, so don't argue with yourself.
You have nothing to do but descend from the roof on the ladder of time
To the bottom where you see a cradle
In which a soul lies,
A stranger to immense dreams.
How fortunate you are!
And you weren't robbed during your exile
Behind the walls of knowledge,
And no whisper swallowed you beside
At the remains of a dark barrier. One night,
you fell from the jaws of an old she-wolf
landed on the sidewalk of an empty street
you hurried alongside the colorful banners
The screams didn't stop
the dreams rubbed their eyes
There was a lonely refuge
A cradle waiting downstairs
A soul still lying on its back
Looking forward to your return..