Uncontrollable forces –

Fire and smoke,

Water and wind;

Coming together

They decimate everything

On the way.

Beautiful destruction,

Enchanting horror,

Constricting sound.

Any step closer

Is a bad idea,

And yet you

Have started moving.

You are the smoke,

Blending with the steam,

Finding your way

Where you should not be.

I pull the thin, pretty threads

That wrap around your neck

And twist gently enough

To put your consciousness to sleep

And distract from the inevitable.

I am a volcano

That is about to erupt

And drag you under.


Lights flicker

In sync with my heartbeat;

Arhythmic waves enfold

And cushion.

Osmium eyelids are

Closing uncontrollably,

Leaving me unable to stay awake.

The vision.

Green shades fill the cave;

They shine through the metal eyes

I have still been unable to move.

You are here.

I cannot see, yet I know what

Is in front of me.

The masterpiece;

Meticulously polished malachite shapes,

Soft curves, and green dust.

The arrhythmia has become

Too powerful to contain.

I can see the faint images

Of stones and blades

Covered in granules;

Breathing is becoming heavier than

My eyelids. I know,

You are moving closer to me.

I no longer need my eyes to see

What I have encountered.

Your sweet copper breath

Gives me shivers,

Paralysing my vital systems.

You were born of destruction,

Torn from where you were meant to be.

I will happily face my fate

As your face comes closer to mine.

For I am just a simple miner

Who came to your mountain

Without being invited.

And as my breath diminishes into nothing

With every passing second

You graciously touch my lips with yours

And I can feel the smooth malachite hand

Sliding into my hair.

You are the queen of this mountain,

And I am but a slave

To everything you are,

Spending the eternity

With the nature’s masterpiece.


Smooth soft surface

Of a quiet lake

Is reflecting the clouds of wondrous shapes.

The trees are too big and wide,

And no sun rays are

Able of warming the waters.

So quiet and peaceful,

No living soul around.

The trees are like guards

Keeping the enchanted forest

From outsiders.

Sad willow is at the shore,

Softly letting the thin flexible branches in the water,

Wrinkling the water.

One wrinkle after another,

Just like the sand of time

Is smoothly disappearing from sight

Among all others.

The willow is crying,

Not looking anywhere

Except for the water.

Every wrinkle on the lake is a passed year.

Passed and wasted year without the light.


rainy days

The weather has been gloomy and rainy for 2 days already.
It’s perfect for sitting somewhere with a cup of hot tea and looking outside at people passing by who are cold wet and totally unhappy about everything around them.
I usually just sit inside without looking out of the window, because to do it I’ll have to take my laptop off my legs, wrap myself in a blanket (it’s really cold too!) and then go to the window.
Oh well, enough complaints. This weather is really amazing. I don’t know about you people, but I get pretty nostalgic about stuff whenever it’s rainy outside. I think about the great times I’ve had before, and it brings this feeling of warmth that my pleasant memories carry with them.
Watching the trees change their color from green to something between yellow and red, or one of these colors is always beautiful. Fall is here. That cold and fresh air every time I open the window or go outside is always very invigorating and makes me want to do something big during the day besides falling asleep in the warm bed after coming back.
I think fall is my favorite time of the year. During these months I can watch the nature preparing to go to sleep and giving me this wonderful scenery.
If only the day were a little longer I could have walked in a park listening to the sounds of rain, river, trees, and wind, and felt in peace….