Poezja

Wanted to dip my
pen in light and draw
your face in golden lines
on dark clouds.

The time announces the
arrival of spirit. You land
like butterfly, on the
lips of voila for seconds
and fly away.

But you did not come
to say goodbye.

The bell tolls for
no one. Nobody dies today
to celebrate the departure
of death― gracefully.

I lived dangerously.