you and i

One drunken night in the end of March
In this awfully filthy city
you and I walked
from one bus stop to other
searching for something
which we would never find.
i wanted to stop you saying,
"you were the nicest of them all"
but i knew you would have not listened to me
as you smell the bird of your life around
And you and i knew "it was the beginning of end"
with the silence around.
your words tangled up
with the song of the city
that bade goodbye to the noise
of the rich men's car
The night's calmness was just a masquerade
as your heart was heavier than a dead body
as your words hardly meant what you felt
a your spectacles veiled the tears
from the windy dark night .

When honesty is a just a good word
in the old priest's vocabulary
how cannot we be dishonest
so that we can confess to our love ones
but you have learned the bird never did
as she flies higher and higher
where sweetness and tender
shatters into anger.
I knew you were always good
at what you have spoken
I believed you would never get broken
but that night i saw you in a heaven
with the words of an angry poet
but this time not a working class poet
but a man with a dagger deep down in his chest.

And for the blues
that you choose
and for the color
your eyes never get blurred
you must move on
with the scent of whiskey
from your breath
which makes the city dizzy.