Emptiness

I hear the footsteps of time,
Crawling like a sick turtle,
And every moment is a new layer of earth,
Covering the chest of my being
Like a shroud no one will remove.

My breath is fragments of wind,
Lost in the labyrinths of concrete cages.
My soul is a city without lights,
Where even the ghosts have lost their faces.

Here – there is neither prayer nor curse.
Only a soundless agony:
Boredom, swinging
On the giant pendulums of apathy.

The days are like dusty pages,
Written by an automatic
Hand without an author.

The ideal… it still exists, there, on the horizon,
But what of it,
If all the bridges are merely drawings
On the wall of a cell?

Once I believed in beauty.
Now it is like a memory of a love
That I never had.
In my eyes there are no stars.
There are only reflections of screens,
Glowing with empty faces.

And shadows dance their dance of absurdity
Without music, without rhythm, without reason.