the moon mislays its luminosity
as the stars started to decay,
they fell like crying meteors
and they kissed the sea beneath the algid breeze.
a detonation of the ocean tossed,
dripping droplets on my body.
in that night, i watched how the world I built,
reached its downfall.
your eyes were an ambiance,
stained by thunderstorms
and tinted by the abysmal sea.
it was too deep to swim at
but i loved being drowned
and being wobbled with its breeze.
and as you cry in pain or bliss,
i was always like being washed away
by voluminous tidal waves,
and i ended up in an island full of chiseled sand,
in there I realize, when you cry,
i suffer.
yet as you turned those eyes
to somebody else,
i felt like my paradise was finally stolen.
my shivery ocean evaporated
my blinking stars were ***** by dimmed clouds
my crescent was torned into pieces
and the unwanted rain poured down
showering me and the dovish land,
that's when my tears became jealous,
of how the tiny droplets stream down,
that's when i realized,
i'm already crying.
this poem maybe the last one i wrote for you,
telling how my world was stumbled, was burned,
and was turned into ashes—
after you'd left me with my trembling toes.
this is not a poem of goodbye,
but it's a poem of letting go.
May 11, 2019
May 11, 2019 at 4:39 AM UTC
the moon mislays its luminosity
as the stars started to decay,
they fell like crying meteors
and they kissed the sea beneath the algid breeze.
a detonation of the ocean tossed,
dripping droplets on my body.
in that night, i watched how the world I built,
reached its downfall.
your eyes were an ambiance,
stained by thunderstorms
and tinted by the abysmal sea.
it was too deep to swim at
but i loved being drowned
and being wobbled with its breeze.
and as you cry in pain or bliss,
i was always like being washed away
by voluminous tidal waves,
and i ended up in an island full of chiseled sand,
in there I realize, when you cry,
i suffer.
yet as you turned those eyes
to somebody else,
i felt like my paradise was finally stolen.
my shivery ocean evaporated
my blinking stars were ***** by dimmed clouds
my crescent was torned into pieces
and the unwanted rain poured down
showering me and the dovish land,
that's when my tears became jealous,
of how the tiny droplets stream down,
that's when i realized,
i'm already crying.
this poem maybe the last one i wrote for you,
telling how my world was stumbled, was burned,
and was turned into ashes—
after you'd left me with my trembling toes.
this is not a poem of goodbye,
but it's a poem of letting go.
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