Another Story of Us

Listening to the sound of the waves,

I can hear your voice through texts.

Soothing sound of care,

a gentle reminder-

what’s ahead is danger.

Ringing laughters

then a song from a fruit pigeon.

It sounded so spooky

In an early morning time.

Holding my hopes

with this mechanically managed item,

my happiness is in the verge of dying

the moment you started not to ring.

Saving myself from drowning

in the waves of unwavering darkness,

the sound of the bell

is a guillotine falling

from a beauty’s neck.

Now I’m making a fool out of me,

waiting for a rainbow at dusk

with the wind blowing on my face

and my feet buried at the sand;

still saving myself from the hold I didn’t grasp

and loud ringing who took my life

just by listening to the story us.