I will talk to rivers
And walk into the sea
To ask the waves for answers,
Do we really need to breathe?

I will sing to landscapes
And whisper to the trees.
Play truth or dare with mountains
Then scream into the streams.

I'll cut my teeth on valleys,
Drawing blood in dreams.
Wake to find my veins are hollow
There was nothing left to bleed.

Now I find myself in exile,
Cast out from lands once known.
A martyr for a war not mine
But a heart that's cast in stone.

From a distance, she gazes with a sigh,
At the man by the sea, a captivating sight.
Lost in thought, he searches deep inside,
For the truth of who he’s meant to be,
and the path he’ll choose to ride.

She lifts a hand, a hesitant wave,
Like the ocean’s gentle touch
on the shore’s soft cave.
Yet doubt creeps in, as she questions her move,
Should she approach, or quietly slip away,
and let him find his groove?

The ocean’s vastness mirrors
her own uncertainty,
As she weighs the risk of reaching out,
and the comfort of anonymity.
For now, she stands, frozen in contemplation,
Torn between connection and solitude’s liberation.