Knowing First-Hand

The swell of foam,
A gust of wind so strong,
Your eyes so grey and cold,
They challenge to be tamed,
They warn that you are bold.
Yet every ship that sailed there,
Turned back or worse destroyed,
The waves so huge and fearsome,
Your eyes beckon them on.
You want the fear and destruction,
You want the attention and sadness,
Like the sea you confuse and swirl on.

The End

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