As the moon calmly succumbs to its cloudy throne,
As the waves meet the sand in a deep, twisted tone,
As the stars struggle against the dominating black,
A meteor shoots for the slightest scratch of luck.
I remember the nights that we proudly called ours,
The place we used to go, the way we passed the hours;
I thought I was lucky and that you were the one,
But like a meteor, the spark was dead and gone.
A solemn bus ride home, a stranger in my seat,
Street lights color my face; your playlist on repeat.
Daydreams on travel whose destiny no one knows,
Just like a meteor with no more place to go.
Could it have been you who’s beside me in this ride?
Could it have been you who’ll make the sadness subside?
The vow of forever, the contract of fervor:
In desperation, a wish to a meteor!
We’re seven in the group; the seats are grouped by two. All of them are already paired except for me. I was left to sit alone behind, and all of a sudden, sadness crept in. My melodramatic, poetic side once again reintroduced itself to the world.
From Lemery to Calamba, enjoy “A Bus Ride along the Coast on a Sunday Night”.
Blogging back, Kenneth. :D