Torn From the Pages of My Heart
The Ocean And I
The ocean is a poetry;
I can never know
How deep it goes
For I could never swim.
The stories that ocean holds
Are many,
Yet what I could write
Are only those
It wills me to see.
Its verses could be turbulent,
Sometimes sweet and serene.
They may tease me, seduce me
With the waves of gentle grace.
A stanza may push me away
With the lash of its
Stirring, violent dance
That whips on my face.
I should hate that ocean...
Yet my heart says, "Be still."
It feels the loneliness
Of a soul it wants to heal
And I am but
A being weeping,
Fighting away the chill
And that ocean has my poetry
That only I could kill.
I can never know
How deep it goes
For I could never swim.
The stories that ocean holds
Are many,
Yet what I could write
Are only those
It wills me to see.
Its verses could be turbulent,
Sometimes sweet and serene.
They may tease me, seduce me
With the waves of gentle grace.
A stanza may push me away
With the lash of its
Stirring, violent dance
That whips on my face.
I should hate that ocean...
Yet my heart says, "Be still."
It feels the loneliness
Of a soul it wants to heal
And I am but
A being weeping,
Fighting away the chill
And that ocean has my poetry
That only I could kill.
