Shells in shifting sand
or fleeting beauty of innocence,
as our role in this temporal play
nothing but guest appearance.
The humble fisherman is ever
grateful for his daily catch.
But he glimpses his lifeboat only
at an ominous hour or dry patch.
His ship trudges by him while he sheds
a tear for every past wave of fear,
he reminisces at every present moment
impervious to life now and here.
He clings on to ghosts and mirages
but whats today he does not know.
he caresses carcasses of hurtful memories
dying before the end of the show.
Every day has gone by, an empty
vacuum, painfully slow.
Love or lust, heartache or death,
the beauty lies in letting go.