Night of Fireworks
Seeing you running into the crowd
it did not take me long to realise
that our time was almost up.
Suddenly it became cold and serene
with sounds from the clock tower
clicking bluntly through my rundown quarter.
As I found your remnants by the seaside
clinging to a laboured breath, dimming in dignity
I thought – ah, life and death, beautiful things
it was then that the sky was filled
with the fireworks;
and our existence turned into a panorama
epic but still hopeless.
Standing far away from the festive air
these blood-stained clothes
seemed more familiar to me
at the feet of unflinching destiny.
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