Gift of myths aroused with the colors,
Of old and forever waves when came home,
Lost in the arms of tide, lost with the love,
Reading with the sigh of those storms screaming.
Lighthouse waiting for his bride in peace,
Counting the countless rainshowers,
Waiting for these splashes to know how,
How a half broken fire light up the whole sky!
Alone, guiding the water to every tears,
A whirlpool of silent cries lived the shores,
Some hanging petals of lust reaching the depth,
To be the evening on every forgotten eyesight.
Long were the arms craving to be touched,
The other broken wishes burnt with its fire,
Never a step taken away from these curses,
The sea softly doused the beach to its peace.
Photo Credits: Internet