Towering waves.
An endless expanse.
Unknown depths.
Secrets well kept.
She is the ocean
That I know.
As far as I dive,
She is deeper.
External light fades,
Its reach not far.
Within is dark,
Impervious to outsiders.
Pressure builds,
Yet I see.
Specks of light,
Underwater bulbs.
Her surface
Is radiant.
Few have seen
Her dark deeps.
I am privileged,
Honored by her.
Her strange creatures
Are my friends.
To some,
Underwater monsters.
To the knowing,
Submarine beauty.
She conceals them,
A blemish of hers.
In the dark deeps,
She stashes them.
But they have light,
Produced inside.
To be forgotten not,
Their struggle goes.
Return now,
To the top.
Sharks patrol,
Defense mechanisms.
A sparkling ocean,
The eye of the storm.
She extends far.
All have heard.
The complexities
Of mortality.
Hidden within.
Soon found and lost.
Water is grace.
She is...
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This poem has been in my head for some time now. I had considered writing it on the twenty fifth, or shortly after that. The ocean was in my mind, and I considered taking a boat onto it. The experience would have become the poem, but something whispered to me that it was not yet time. But upon reading the comment on my "Love's Mirror" short story, I found the time had come for this expression. I was surprised at the hurt that was expressed by someone who I believe is a friend of mine. The comment was posted as anonymous, but the words suggest a close bond. I had not written with anyone in mind, nor did I take anyone's character to use as the imposter. I am sincerely sorry for the hurt that the story has caused, and this poem is meant to portray that friend in a much more honest light. And with that, I end this post. Until next time,
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