The waves were drunk,
breathing grief with every motion.
The shore was sober,
embracing, calming, still.
They seemed lost to fate,
returning again, exhausted.
The shore never asked for apology—
it only opened its arms.
It welcomed them,
believing they had strayed.
But who would whisper to the shore
that these were the same waves,
forever sailing back to it?
The waves were never truly lost—
they were forsaken by the ocean.
When they were on the verge of drowning,
the shore held them close.
They clung to it,
and the shore never complained.
They returned, not out of neglect,
but because the shore carried
a graveyard of divinity for them.
Yet still, the waves were driven by fate,
while the shore remained unmoved.
They wandered from coast to coast,
and found no peace.
At last, they paused
at the edge of a kingdom of sand and stone.
They tried to surrender to its atoms,
but failed—
for the tapestry of fate
could not be soaked by their waters.
Mar 1
Mar 1, 2026 at 10:31 AM UTC
The waves were drunk,
breathing grief with every motion.
The shore was sober,
embracing, calming, still.
They seemed lost to fate,
returning again, exhausted.
The shore never asked for apology—
it only opened its arms.
It welcomed them,
believing they had strayed.
But who would whisper to the shore
that these were the same waves,
forever sailing back to it?
The waves were never truly lost—
they were forsaken by the ocean.
When they were on the verge of drowning,
the shore held them close.
They clung to it,
and the shore never complained.
They returned, not out of neglect,
but because the shore carried
a graveyard of divinity for them.
Yet still, the waves were driven by fate,
while the shore remained unmoved.
They wandered from coast to coast,
and found no peace.
At last, they paused
at the edge of a kingdom of sand and stone.
They tried to surrender to its atoms,
but failed—
for the tapestry of fate
could not be soaked by their waters.