By Kriselda Kaçupaj


We  are falling  and we can not  always get back up,

(Amazing  the view of  the moon!)

We  lean  our head  upon a pillow  of thoughts

and  close  our eyes  in front of  the truth that  is screaming.


We  search  for happiness  in the bottom  of the glass,

in  digits, letters,

in  the lust  we call love,

we  breathe  and we say  that we live.


We  smoke  cigarettes,  cut our veins,

exhale  clouds, and  leak rivers,

dying  in the  labyrinth  we created,

and  it doesn’t  exist the thread  of Ariadne that can  save us.


We  search  for condolence  ,lack confidence,

thirsty  to take another  picture,

so  the world  will show us  our reflection,

How  did we  fall in such  a deep darkness?

Inside expensive studios,

Sitting beside our closest friends,

We hope we will find the thread,

And the Minotaur slowly devouring us.


Is there a god that can save us?

Thousands of year that we create thousands of gods,

Hoping that one will save our soul,

Blindingly following the past generations,

Blindingly following our past selves.


Alone and like leaves that the wind rocks while they fall into the ground,

I know…we have different idea of who we are,

And the wind rocks us while we fall,

Believe me…we are just falling leaves.


I can feel the fall, and I can feel the loneliness,

And the fall is so gentle, and loneliness so inevitable,

Loneliness like in a world where everybody shuts their eyes,

But you refuse to die…


…all the same I am dying,

And death is so sweet,

Because everything is better

Than decaying while alive.