To a.g., and all the clichés that suffice.
Here lies the Ocean’s haunting question:
_Is it a curse or a gift to be who I am?
Who are you then_?
Soft touch suffices to smother.
Songs that scream with thunder.
Hidden depths enough to drown.
Through the sound of the waves
Swashing, breaking, stilling...
The answer of the Earth dawns
In resounding cadence:
A storm is but another name for baptism,
And the Gift of Life I embrace.
Apr 14, 2018
Apr 14, 2018 at 2:11 AM UTC
To a.g., and all the clichés that suffice.
Here lies the Ocean’s haunting question:
_Is it a curse or a gift to be who I am?
Who are you then_?
Soft touch suffices to smother.
Songs that scream with thunder.
Hidden depths enough to drown.
Through the sound of the waves
Swashing, breaking, stilling...
The answer of the Earth dawns
In resounding cadence:
A storm is but another name for baptism,
And the Gift of Life I embrace.