I walked to the beach with the barnacled rocks
to sit and watch the sea.
It frolicked and waved, it babbled and talked:
It said sweet things to me.
I perched on the rocks, feeling peaceful and free,
by this sea I had befriended.
We'd shared many chats, many memories,
but that day, it all ended.
The ocean inhaled as, far off, it distended,
becoming a bloated swell.
It kissed the sky, so terribly high, and for a moment it hung, suspended—
then it fell.
Rush, gush. I stared and wondered: What made you rise and rebel?
How could you so coldly betray?
Splash, crash. You were my friend. But now you're a watery hell.
My tears were mixed with the spray.
And then the drowning panic came, a roaring wall of blue and gray;
I didn't try to flee.
I waited while the wave-wall fell, devouring the bay—
and then I ceased to be.