White scarfs, bald heads, short hair, lengthy strands
That's what colours our days,
Though, not until you realize the shadows within,
And the darkness beneath, where;
The spears clutch,
And the blood spurs,
Yet the ocean's still blue.
It is in the ocean, where;
Patterns are drawn,
And together make the beam,
There beneath, are letters,
Some in blue and others in red,
Then you must realize,
How deceptive the ocean's blue is.
It is the sea camouflaging the blue ink,
And coating the beetroots,
What if we were alike?
How about religion was love?
Then, the ocean would be white,
To somehow reveal the darkness,
The dark concealed underneath worship roofs.