The sea turns white,
Like a diamond too bright,
Like a death too dear,
The seething eclair.

The sun burns like a bomb,
An artistic womb,
A warm cozy place, with no memories,
In front.

The roads were in two,
The ruminations were true,
Like a rocking horse moving with motion and force,
But no progress or life to feel the sea.

Mirrors in my room,
And the nature is in bloom,
Like a fortune at sight,
The sun was clean and bright!

I became death, like a wavelet in pause,
Of all reasons I am, I am the effect of effort and cause!