The sadness falls in sheets of rain—
I long for an umbrella of love.
You are the Atlantic, lost in tides,
I am the Pacific, distant above.
Two waters that will never meet,
divided by fate, by silent war.
Loneliness hums in flickering streetlights,
shadows stretch, but mine is no more.
The mirror mocks with a cruel smile,
a stranger wears my skin and eyes.
If self-love is an illusion,
why can’t I stop despising mine?
My world, once golden, now Atlantis,
drowning beneath a memory.
The pillars that held my past and pain,
once strong with love, now start to break.
And as the cracks run deep and wide,
they show the truth I failed to see—
the ones I cherished, swore were mine,
were only ghosts disguised as peace.
El Dorado gleamed on the horizon,
but it’s farther than the stars abide.
Betrayal shattered like porcelain glass,
a wound too deep for love to hide.
Yet even ruin learns to harden—
one day, I will return the favor in steel.
