Trembles of the sea
Are trembles of your soft words.
Moonlight patches on the surface
Make up for your salted cheeks.
Cries from comforting depths
As abyss drowning your eyes.
Gentle brushes against the shore
Are hands wiping and whispering
- ˝No more.˝

The painful flight of birds
Is your soul dreaming
The sound of cheering
Is you saying my name
The play of violins
Is you singing and your display
In the silver mirroring game (we all play).

Hard wooden floors await your fall
But you only feel
Trembles of the sea,
Moonlight,
Depths.

They offer you the sky but you know that's just another cage
So every night you tap little bits of rage
In paper that listens
'Till one day it glistens

And again you hear
Soft brushes against the shore,
Pleasant hands wiping and whispering
- ˝No more.˝