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Rated: E · Poetry · Fantasy · #2056748
She told me that the ocean, had been calling out her name.
She told me that the ocean,
Had been calling out her name.
When the tide went out each evening,
She felt like she should do the same.
The waves tugged at her ankles,
As they pooled around her.
Whispering of wonders,
That she still had yet to meet.
But every time I asked her,
If she knew the reason why,
She simply said this arid world,
Had turned her deep heart dry.
There was just one way she knew of,
To finally feel like she was free.
And it was 14,000 feet,
Beneath the cold and stormy sea.
Then early in November,
She slipped like water from our hands.
Left nothing of her salty breath,
Or footprints in the sand.
And I hope she found the ocean,
Made up for things this world lacked.
For she left a note to say goodbye,
And then never came back.
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