Bhyllabus l'énigme

A Cahya Legawa's Les pèlerins au-dessus des nuages

The Lost Fishing Village

I came back to the fishing village where I grew up long ago
But all I found were empty houses and a silence deep and low
The boats were gone, the nets were torn, the pier was cracked and gray
The people who had lived and loved had all moved far away

I walked along the dusty streets and searched for signs of life
But all I saw were memories of the past and of the strife
The storms, the wars, the poverty that drove them to the shore
The hopes, the dreams, the promises that they could keep no more

I sat down by the water’s edge and gazed upon the sea
But all I felt were waves of grief and longing inside me
The sun, the moon, the stars, the tides that marked my days and nights
The friends, the family, the love that filled my life with light

I left the fishing village with a heavy heart and sigh
But all I took were souvenirs and a tear in my eye
The shells, the stones, the photographs that captured what had been
The stories, the songs, the poems that kept them in my skin


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About Me

Hello, I’m a general physician by day and a fiction and blog writer by night. I love fantasy and adventure stories with a cup of tea. Whether it’s exploring magical worlds, solving mysteries, or fighting evil forces, I enjoy immersing myself in the power of imagination.

I also like to share my thoughts and opinions on various topics on my blog, where I hope to connect with like-minded readers and writers. If you’re looking for a friendly and creative person to chat with, feel free to message me.


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