‘Whoosh!’ wailed the waves.
There goes the honk of the cargo ship,
And the ***** and the tweets of the tired gulls
Under the golden, violet, pink, bluish sunset.

Satisfying sounds and serene scene
For the burdened body
As it leaned on the rusty rails of the pier.
So fragile, so pale.

It stared only on its reflection in the water
On that really unforgiving day.
Whilst the beautiful calm call of nature,
It basks on the gloomy grasp of grief.

But for a while, it brought the body
To a zero state, the status - cathartic.
As he stares, glares, and relinquishes
The ability to blink, and just twitch.

How blissful it is to be blank
To be ****** on a lull pace
To be mind-numb for a while
To be thoughtless and dysfunctional

Only to be stopped by the clanks of the anchor.
‘Cling!’ Clang!’
‘Splash!’
‘Boogsh!’

It dropped down fast on the seabed
As it weighed for the ship; and there it dawned
The struggles were unperished - so heavy,
Just to be carried for yet another day.

The cycle continues, conjuring cries
Bringing brief baffles of the battle bard
As he surrenders his daily slurs
To this unending short sheathed cure.