The waves of September crashing hard,
Onto the shore of deserted island,
Sculpting a sand sculpture of two lovers,
That promises forever but lasted a jiffy.

Still in blue from the bitter truth,
But what can I do, the choice is yours,
To stay or to leave.

Sensing the scent of yours,
Every night,
Smell like the open sea and cold cosy night breeze,
A little bit of dampen forest floor,
With wild black roses and daffodil.

In the night of middle September,
I thought I have deceased you from my thought,
But I am hiding you further and further inside my mind.

The waves are no longer violence now,
The moon is no longer blocked by dark clouds,
And I am no longer blinded by feelings.

I lied.