Truth comes in waves.
Like the rhythm
of the ocean.
We were born there
in its womb.
And We are at the mercy
of the moon.
It’s hard to tell the truth
When you don’t recall
Being immortal.
When you’ve forgotten
Your own beauty.
*The song that
could ultimately save you.*
So we come here,
Lost limping sirens.
Mouthing lies
In falsetto memories.
Breaking bread with comfort.
But Leaving the dead to linger
upon a truthless shore.
Dec 21, 2015
Dec 21, 2015 at 10:33 AM UTC
Truth comes in waves.
Like the rhythm
of the ocean.
We were born there
in its womb.
And We are at the mercy
of the moon.
It’s hard to tell the truth
When you don’t recall
Being immortal.
When you’ve forgotten
Your own beauty.
*The song that
could ultimately save you.*
So we come here,
Lost limping sirens.
Mouthing lies
In falsetto memories.
Breaking bread with comfort.
But Leaving the dead to linger
upon a truthless shore.
What does the Ocean say to you?
