I try to find what I crave
And soon I see its her.
From myself I need to be saved
To not let this pass in a blur.
This ocean holds the key without contempt,
This grave revives amidst a wake
Of thistles unbound and patterns unkempt,
If only to grasp for heaven's sake.
The seekers find their mystery
In a poetry unopposed,
The voiceless hide their misery
In a sultry book of prose.