Ebbing tide,
not the time to wait for a lover.
Just the moment out of time
to watch the eternal infinite,
intimate sea.
The keeper of your darkest moods,
your moments when you turned
to this spot where the evening says a farewell to the time;
the time that flows in haste
lest the rubble splash and clog its simple heart.
not the time to wait for a lover.
Just the moment out of time
to watch the eternal infinite,
intimate sea.
The keeper of your darkest moods,
your moments when you turned
to this spot where the evening says a farewell to the time;
the time that flows in haste
lest the rubble splash and clog its simple heart.
The ebbing tide leaves behind
the splinters that might hurt its own flawless moons
kept meticulously clean, awash on the crest of the storms.
The times when you threw yourself
heedlessly in the waves, receding, listless,
eager to hear you speak, nevertheless.
"No regrets, no looking back; nothing is sad and bleak."
The ebbing tide in a subdued whisper of the wind
merging with sound of the sea, seems to say the words
just for you to hear, a manifestation, just for you to see.
the splinters that might hurt its own flawless moons
kept meticulously clean, awash on the crest of the storms.
The times when you threw yourself
heedlessly in the waves, receding, listless,
eager to hear you speak, nevertheless.
"No regrets, no looking back; nothing is sad and bleak."
The ebbing tide in a subdued whisper of the wind
merging with sound of the sea, seems to say the words
just for you to hear, a manifestation, just for you to see.
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