Poezja

It was the hiatus 
that underlying silence 
of which I was hearing the voices. 
 
There was nothing left to be said. 
I wanted to levitate in void 
to unlearn what I understood. 
 
Why the distance interpolates 
between the guilt and acceptance? 
Leaves are falling in different colors. 
 
Time avenges, burns the grass, 
the lips, the retina, 
the black walls and white numbers. 
 
Inner peace will return 
On the ashes of fallen trees. 
Life will resume another journey.