Forgive the grey sea for its intrusion at this hour,
Don't believe its breaking hum that holds such power,
Meaningful strokes sweep the bed where it weeps
The grey sea trying hard to evade those who sleep.
Succumbing to the swish, the swash unfolding,
Unbeknownst to all the dreams its withholding.
The break ponders before deciding on its course
Underneath its caress is a knife that is sharp,
Unafraid to utilize its brutal force
How easy it is to drown in nature left ajar.
The grey sea lies still, calm and unruly
But what of the waves that linger in our paths?
Find them, stroke them, brush by them cruelly,
Their present once wanted, no need to look back.