Silent Songs
By Huilan
Last night, Rain falls down with an empty heart on the crowded street,
Rain falls from so high that my heart was broken badly with agony.
The wind outside the room howls, and it was soft yet cruelly passing over
in silence. Somewhere in the deep memory a song raising once more:
how can you stop the rain from falling down? How can you
mend a broken heart? Not yet. No need. Turn back? Bleeding yesterday
should be licked in a corner, and be pretend not existed. Not at all.
Ever. Never.
Yes the summer night is in a snow-filled cold and it reminds me of a warm moment
when you wiped my tears off. Me too have lost from your watering eyes; the water
tastes like wine, blood, or poison. Whatever. I sunk and was dead in a dream,
but the shadow of your words keeps me alive. No longer have I raised my eyes
outside of the window, and only can sing silently to myself or nobody. Everything now
is tender but grey, just like the color of my hairs. Everything is past,
just like you, but not.
A smell of love is the smell of rotten fruits, so the smell of sweet death.
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