As the boiling Ocean crawls at your feet
You feel it washing your worries away
And splashing on you Soothing Joy!
The sea becomes your best Pal
You run to it,You embrace it
And you both laugh at this ironic spot!
Hand in hand,you stroll up and down the sea shore
But Time is running out…
And you decide to communicate by trudging your fingers through the wet golden sand
Putting letters together as though the sea could recognize the inscriptions from an old life
As though the sea could console you more than a matter with breath in it!
No god of this land and of this sea can ever erase your past or build up your present,poor Lad!
Tis true that gods exist and communicate with man
But tis inane to Abandon the Most high to embrace that which is lesser than my feet!
For fun,you will chase the waves as they roll back
But watch them run after you when your back is turned
forgetting that gradually the sun will set
So alike is the action of these gods!
They never work without receiving a pay
God alone, understands and can fix you without taking back any thing!
The seas are his,the lands are his
And so are you,Poor Lad!