I have been waiting to hear the quiet ocean in me.
I have been anxious of listening to it in my solitude but the splash of things around me only knows of the world war.
Multiple crash on the wall, i only stare at the world through my rearview if i could catch a sight off my image.
What would i do with cremated pictures and incarcerated love.
I have waited so long to hear the quiet ocean in me.
I have winged my hope to the edge of things.
I know that it will rain someday