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Aug 2018
The salt water washes away the sin
crashing on the rocks so violently,
trickling down tracing my skin
the most beautiful symphony.
There’s nothing that I detest more
than the sand encasing my toes,
but still my home sits on the shore
I love the depth and adore the lows.

Drag me down into the sea
where I’ve always been destined to be,
The waves strongly embracing
my heart stopping yet racing.

I’ll be a drowned god,
for what is dead may never die,
but rises again stronger and harder.
Among the bass and the cod
I’ll never again see the sky
sacrifice my heart to be a martyr.

You know sand is a kin to soil
for underwater the seaweed will grow,
and with passion the bubbles boil
we do not reap; we do not sow.
Hoarding a seashell collection
though I can not craft jewelry,
I’d still offer quite a selection
a salt crown was never meant for me.

Drag me down into the sea
where I’ve always been destined to be.
The tide will lock on and carry me
until I’m listing and sinking.

I’ll be a drowned god,
for what is dead may never die,
but rises again stronger and harder.
And I may be very flawed,
to that I could never deny
I can’t negotiate nor can I barter.

Drag me down to the sea
where I’ve always been destined to be.
An escape where no one can flee,
forever cursed to be drowning.

I’ll be a drowned god,
I’ll rise again but painfully slow.
No one will wait to applaud,
but we do not reap and we do not sow.

For what is dead may never die,
but rises instead stronger than I.
For what is dead may never die,
I never lead and following; I could never try.
Em MacKenzie
Written by
Em MacKenzie  35/F/Ottawa
(35/F/Ottawa)   
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