Astronavt

An author and a philosopher of modern poetry with a retrospective outlook on life My interests: Philosophy, literature, writing, politics, and economy.

Thanks to your shy smile, I found my will to live, To live more than a few short years.

Your knees pushed into my ribs, Spilling blood onto my wings; And I wished to live more than a few short decades. I promised you, as you promised me, To meet here again in three years, And with a kiss on my lips you bid your farewell.

I waited patiently, through Autumn, Winter, Spring and Summer, Thunders and colds like in Siberia- Fingers slowly getting colder, Yet I still felt like growing older, Be it for another few short years.

Your eyes shone in between the cosmic rays, Green as moss and bright as stars, In this vast and empty space, Spilling blood on my wings, If only i was a bit younger.

The clock stroke 12 and its bells rang, I was waiting at the train station, And when the carriage arrived, You were nowhere to be seen.

It arrived in Autumn, The mysterious mist, Hiding emotions in the abyss. The cold mornings, When the air held itself down, Grasping for my naked feet, Stealing them of warmth.

Outside the birds sang their choir, Uncaring for the wind, That once held them high, Only to call for it in a time of need.