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by Dante
Rated: · Other · Other · #1525591
A poem of a man longing to be free
I walk all day up and down the sandy beach, when the sand is washed away, as it washes away the footprints, left behind me. Oh to swim the sea.

How far can I run as fast as I can, to find the end of the ocean, when the sea washes up on the sand? And how far do I run as fast as I can, to reach the end of the sand, to find the sea, where the ocean begins again. Oh to swim the sea.

If I consider myself just a greater sand, lying on the beach, all I could hope for is a moments peace, for when the sea washes up to take me, I shall never again be free. Oh to swim the sea.

All my dreams and memoirs are placed in a bottle and cast into the sea, leaving all in little hope that anyone should find me. Oh to swim the sea.

For the ocean has taken the very last thing from me, a man's mind is his life, and each passing day it brings a slow insanity. Oh to swim the sea.

Then one day the ocean called that man home with him, as he lept into the sea and began to swim, a man from himself set free. Oh to swim the sea.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1525591-Oh-To-Swim-The-Sea