In my heart, an ache takes hold, for memories warm, for days of old. Running free along the shore’s embrace, salt-kissed under the sun with the breeze in my face.
Melancholy stirs as the past drifts by, like fading streams beneath a foreign sky. My past gone with the waves, or so it seems, lost to the tide of distant, inconceivable dreams.
Oh, how I miss speaking my mother tongue, with the guarantee, of the comfort of knowing people could actually understand me.
Words that once flowed like rivers, clear and bright, without the need for masked accents by dawn’s light. Now each word feels tangled, twisted, and tight; how I long for what I took for granted, what once felt right.
Pilipinas, my motherland, I still feel your heartbeat, from the cold airport terminals to my hometown street. Your thrum remains, steady and true, like a nostalgic melody under skies effervescently blue.
The songs, the friends, the chatter, the heat— in your arms, you cradled me, whole and complete.
Though miles may part us, in my soul you stay, a piece of you I’ll always carry, never to sway. My love for you, steadfast and true, a piece of me that only grew.