Standing on a secluded cliff,
Turning my eyes to the sea.
I try to net with the smallest sniff
What freedom and oblivion may be.
The waves crashing onto the rocky shore,
Each one inevitably fading away;
no longer being part of the bore,
but instead washing over the bay.
I wonder how it feels giving up to the stream;
My lungs filled with endless devotion.
For I realize the waves crashing to be redeemed
Don´t matter as long as they're part of the ocean.
Oct 12, 2016
Oct 12, 2016 at 1:20 PM UTC
Standing on a secluded cliff,
Turning my eyes to the sea.
I try to net with the smallest sniff
What freedom and oblivion may be.
The waves crashing onto the rocky shore,
Each one inevitably fading away;
no longer being part of the bore,
but instead washing over the bay.
I wonder how it feels giving up to the stream;
My lungs filled with endless devotion.
For I realize the waves crashing to be redeemed
Don´t matter as long as they're part of the ocean.
