Candles blown by your own tears
Scents of lilac in the bloom
Books resting silently unopened
Icons whispering into the room.
The poet of the city long forgotten
The beauty of the temple savagely chopped
The ghastly time of the deluge has come
The ancient clocks now fatally have stopped.
What? You’re not crying anymore?
You are confusing me and poor Noah in his ark
Please cry another minute for I want
To kiss your tears dancing en avant.