As if suddenly time has stopped turning pages on,
I got scared,
My words are getting trumbled every second.
The poems that I have taken inside
Are absolutely being burdens beforehand
the second that I thought,
If this is the end.
For if my pride is not there to solve and allay.
In the meantime of sorrow and collapse and alcohol,
I look behind,
And I shiver again.
For if my pride is not there to hold me,
For if the darkness ever start on growing,
For if my love is not there to tell me,
“You are a sunflower”,
For if there is no hope to joy and aspire,
I will rise like a sun,
Burn into ashes every pages that hunt
I will read,
I will sense,
I will perceive and
I will shiver again.