October Blues

How the carpet rustles underfoot,

The sparks of scarlet maple fires,

And how the tent of heaven weeps

Under the blows of the gloomy winds,

You’ll hear through the noise of the city

And a lump of languid thoughts.

In the sluggish sludge of weary sleep,

In the bustle of unconcerned care,

Where sorrow is at the bottom of your mind,

Where longing and pain live beside each other,

You don’t know whether to come back up,

Where laughter is heard.

Rain shoots at the stray cats

With the machine-gun blobs of boredom

The window is spotted by the dust of a bygone life.

The taste of oblivion feels bitter-sweet

I’m inundated by a burst floodgate

of October blues.