Seeking Solace

34

There is something about the sea,

Something special, close to magic

It's liked to openness, vastness, power and beauty.

Ever changing.

But I think the sea is quite tragic,

caged and confined, rarely spilling over.

Carrying messages and seashells and forsaken rigs,

desperate to leave soiled proof it was there.

A witness to constant death, offering only ice and salt in return

Hiding the grave down in its depths where light can never reach,

concealing the pain, the blood, the guilt.

Shadowing it's darkest secrets, wishing to keep them unknown.

The waves reach out their foaming fingers, desperate to grip the wet sand.

But losing over and over and over.