The waves crawl in from a far horizon,
Through the azure ocean of Time,
With an air of danger and of beauty,
They roll on closer to where the rocks lie.
Little do they know of their fate,
of how they draw nearer with every breath
Towards the rocks, which are their graves,
of how they roll onward towards their deaths.
Likewise, we trek across the seas,
across a seemingly endless plain,
We crawl, we walk, we, blundering, run,
unaware of the inevitable pain.
From beyond the horizon, we sweep to the shore,
rising glorious in fleeting majesty,
Before, without warning, we crash to the rocks,
Succumbing to merciless destiny.
