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The Ocean
Underneath the billows,
Of the rhythmic blue.
The waves seem to cease.
The Further I get in the offing of the sea.
Our existance derives from the ocean.
The womb of the Earth.
The incubator, the ocean,
Evolution is to birth.
We struggle from the deep
Like brine so fragile and weak.
A milllion times we died,
Fighting the curren,
Blind to the flux within the tide.
Of the rhythmic blue.
The waves seem to cease.
The Further I get in the offing of the sea.
Our existance derives from the ocean.
The womb of the Earth.
The incubator, the ocean,
Evolution is to birth.
We struggle from the deep
Like brine so fragile and weak.
A milllion times we died,
Fighting the curren,
Blind to the flux within the tide.
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