The movement of the ocean


The movement of the ocean

Forward, we move.
With the wind waits
The oasis of an ocean in my middle
That crushing waves might implicate
To search no further

For have why we the need, to waste
Such a sundry of sand-
The swimmer might ask,
Why dies the clock’s ticking?

Back-words, we’re forced.
Pulled back by the restless undertow
Of a thousand thoughts
I cannot bravely inquire

Wait for me-
Here, I dare not swim
as far
As young eyes see
For the wait to waste away
Diminishes, my ocean’s pull

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