As strong waves washed the shore,
There lay a turtle of the forgotten time,
It slowly creeping to reach the damp moor,
And to wait there until the sun would shine.

But heavy rain pours when it's daylight,
Pouring rage and hatred in every corners of the land,
So, the soaked poor turtle struggles to hide,
Seeking refuge and warmth to his delight.

There, in the dark cave the turtle sleeps,
Reminiscing of fancy things he never forgets,
At the back of his mind he wonders what future would be;
Of this poor little lad who lives near the sea.

© melai2020