I was wrong. She became the ocean because she was torn.
Before she fell in love with the storm She was enamoured by the trees The nature surrounding her And its delicate seeds The lake was who she was And she hoped that would be her all -
But the storm struck her.
It struck, ******, and stole What was left of her whole Her innocence, her soft soul All ripped and discarded by the swirling ghoul Needless to say, it left a deep hole One that would never heal, one no-one could behold
She become the ocean so it was she who would control. The storms in her palm, the monsters of her own Monster she became, bold yet cold The oceanβs depths let no mercy be shown.
But what still remained the same was her soul - It was the same water, the same heart The same desire, the same start The same softness, in a hidden part She did not want to see another torn apart.
She commanded the storms, an ocean of power Protected the weak with the comfort she showered Under her rule, the real monsters cowered. In the world of the bad, it was she who towered.
continuation of my poem 'Changes', the first part of which is on my profile