That drop of water,
Which made it wide.
That brine blue loch
Which gave it salty pride.
That adjective of beauty,
Which included fun.
That human conscience,
That named it ocean.

That profound fear of death,
Which made it alone.
Those colourful lives,
Which gave a merriful tone.
That chipper colour of blue,
Which beamed a glow.
Those huge deep volcanoes,
Which never made things flow slow.

Those berms beneath infinite,
Which made it nautically agelast.
That bed of fleet,
Which makes it Everlast.
Those peak of drowned mountains,
Which are trenched to chains.
Those surface which are lit,
Which are far from the surface beneath,
Taking upon mysteries over the current's breathe.

Those history confiscated by the eyes,
Which are blue and concealed to demise.
That might of those drops,
Which kept it unite.
The daring of the salt,
Which held it tight.
They all united,
And then it was done.
Left was the human conscience,
That named it ocean.

@Jalebii × © ray_09

Collab Poem #1