Standing at the sea I longed for...
It is winter, but the sea is not cold.
The waves flutter against each other, a perfect banner.
The seagulls fly back and forth, they're free.
The star fish counts invisible stars on its back, along with its own certain death.
The sand is damp with endless treads, each follows another story.
The city lights are caressing the clouds, that are swarming around the fateful moon.
And I'm here at last, collecting seashells, smelling the incense of minerals.
It's hard to think of heading to where it is warm, the night is too salty.
But with this powerful poem I wrote, I am able to take you sea, back with me.