RUBBLE AND SILENCE

(verse 1)
I met you by the mirrors, hiding tremble in my voice,
Pretending I’d lost my phone just to hear your gentle choice.
You called it softly like a warm Thai wind,
And in that tiny moment something true began within.

(verse 2)
We joked in little messages, you laughed quietly,
Saying, “I’m not looking for a boyfriend… maybe someday, maybe.”
You tried my language slowly, whispering just for me:
“dziękuję… kocham cię” — words I still hear tenderly.

(chorus)
Rubble and silence is all I feel tonight.
28 March 2025 — the quake stole your life.
My missed calls still burn like fire in my chest,
I never got to tell you, “Run, my love… do what’s best.”
Buddha, if you hold her, keep her close and warm,
For I won’t see her smile again or her eyes in the dawn.

(verse 3)
You flew home when your father’s strength began to fade,
Saying, “Family is everything — that’s how I was made.”
You buried him softly under a Buddhist sky,
A month later the earth broke open… no chance for goodbye.

(bridge)
30 March — they found you under rubble, silent and alone,
And your brother’s shaking voice said you wouldn’t come home.
I deleted your pictures thinking the pain might fade,
But losing you twice cut deeper than the quake ever made.
I still hear your soft Polish, like prayers in the night:
“dziękuję… kocham cię…” — holding me tight.

(final chorus)
Rubble and silence follow me everywhere,
You never fought with me — now I fight the air.
Taken by trembling earth, found two days too late…
If you hear me beyond the dust and fate,
Know this — I still love you.
Goodnight, my heart… goodnight.