As the ebb tide recedes, along with it my spirit.
Left to my own devices, I swim against the tide.
Not knowing the extent of my strength.
Or the limits of my own ignorance and stupidity.
I clutch on to that string that couldn’t be cut.
That if I’m ever stranded or marooned,
it’ll lead me back to where I belong.
It comes crashing, in waves, in phases.
The ebb and flow of human emotions.
We bury what is real treasure
and lose sight of what’s truly valuable.
Yet capsizing on worthless inconspicuous obligations.
They may rotate amongst each other,
we revolve around our own evolution.
The moonlight illuminating the surface but something’s amiss.
When will I see my reflection again?