Waves crash like cars on the shore.
The surf sliding swiftly on soft sand,
Slowing greatly but never stopping.
Then rapidly receding again.

The crashing, thrashing sounds of waves
Used to echo in ears so hollow
Shaped like empty conch shells.
Hear the hushed, rushing sound of a blood-like ocean.

The creatures that live beneath
Water of confused hues, blue and green.
Tolerate visitors of all shapes and sizes
Who swim in their home, to a degree.

The ocean's meaning is deeper than the depths of me,
With a destiny predetermined by the moon.
I can not alter the nature of the ocean.
Just like the nature of the ocean should not alter me.