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 DonΒ΄t matter as long as they're part of the ocean.