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 ocean’s 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
