In the intangible ocean, Harsh waves crash upon themselves In a seemingly usual motion, Driven by the catastrophe, embedded in their circumstances. Nevertheless, no importance is given, For it shall eventually disembogue into a steady realm And amidst countless dead bodies, The great war will be over, Remembered as a mere second of weakness.
Children drown, But the waters only do what they must do; Great vessels sink, But the sight is not a new one in glorified eyes.
She frowns before the sea, She is compelled, she must survive; Such fear is meaningless-- And the waves bluster. She has now been drowning for countless few years, With no sign of convalescence. Poor thing, she couldn't bear The murderous tides of her destiny; Her cries for help couldn't prevail over the crowd of voices Dismissing her despair.