Torn from the land, I am never free:
A slave to the perpetual ebb and flow
And it is there I shall forever be,
Lost, doomed to flow where my waters may go.
My despondent sigh, soothing at the least,
Yet my cries shall never be heard.
For as surely as the sun rising from the east,
My pleas will always be deferred.
If you shall not help me, why should I abide
And slave upon your fancy and whim?
You dare to sail upon my rising tide
While my anger is full to the brim.
I am the ocean, I am the tide,
I long to be free: to soar inside.
YOU ARE READING
Soul Castle: My Atty's Collection
PoetryMy collection for the atty's by Camakaze2 (Cameron)