In the intangible ocean,
Harsh waves crash upon themselves
In a seemingly usual motion,
Driven by the catastrophe, embedded in their circumstances.
Nevertheless, no importance is given,
For it shall eventually disembogue into a steady realm
And amidst countless dead bodies,
The great war will be over,
Remembered as a mere second of weakness.

Children drown,
But the waters only do what they must do;
Great vessels sink,
But the sight is not a new one in glorified eyes.

She frowns before the sea,
She is compelled, she must survive;
Such fear is meaningless--  
And the waves bluster.
She has now been drowning for countless few years,
With no sign of convalescence.
Poor thing, she couldn't bear
The murderous tides of her destiny;
Her cries for help couldn't prevail over the crowd of voices
Dismissing her despair.