My Treasure Beneath the Tides

The murky rolling waves subject to the whims of the February's wind, far above the secluded lighthouse; the roaming aircrafts vanish through thick clouds, leaving behind a trail of hazardous vapors... but the geese and seagulls can't continue their existence! And still the sea offers them its promise, a distant shore untouched by man... by his greedy ways and incompassion, causing the extinction of many species; my reflection is based on fact : we can't survive without them! The stylish wild birds engage, as if striken by a sudden rage, in their frantic, daily dance over the marina, as I listen the melancholic lyrics of " Nessun Dorma "... the exquisite area of Puccini, which comes alive through the extraordinary voice of Bocelli! At four the fog thickens and shrouds the shoreline, the brass lampposts light up with reluctance... to shy away the presence of any ghost; I, in transitive joy, hide my treasure beneath the tides, hoping someone will find it and remember my work... long after my thoughts will be no longer alive!