Today, I walk down the same shore Of beach 'revival' They say, Pick a stone And you'd come again, They said the same before.
Out of the shiny, shimmering, crystalline ones, I chose the darkest, small and round piece of rock. One mistook it for a darkened egg, While others declared it a marble.
It's a stone, Simply my way back to the beach, Where my transient legs once laid bare And the grains of sand pricked against my sole. Where once my love and I walked hand in hand, his smile reaching my soul.
Those were yesteryears, We were young, bold and shy. His shirt button up till his tie. We promised to build a house Along the seaside Hearing the rhymes of dancing waters.
Indeed I'm back again, To return the nature its nature, Giving a last look at the stone That held him and I close.
I close my eyes And smile with grief, I feel his hand touch mine, I let the stone fall off my fist. His form disappears in thin air. My intention is fulfilled. I've let the waves Wash away the mortal existence of us. Now remain only in the faded memories Of the revival beach.