This Sea

This was an unprecedented sea. Shallow and lone some with powerful crashing waves. Spilling over rocks covered with moss. There they sat, wallowing away. An untouched landmark not seen for days, there it sat wallowing away. Not one single bird flapped its wings, over the sparking blue for fright it would bring. Out too far and sounds would ring, in your ears, and to your brain, an irreplaceable strain. Still it lay, untouched for days, not one visitor had graced this place. Were all the memories it held a disgrace, was it something to erase? Did the sun rise at a quickened pace and set before true loves embrace? Sun tanned hands reaching through the sand, the hum of the water, a buzzing bees brand. Was it complicated or was it hard to understand? How the strand of shells lined the sand, a delicate barrier between mans demand. Was the salt too strong as you swallowed your tongue? Did it made you think twice about how you begun? When and where your debt is paid, the book has been read, now your dead. The blood and sweat, and tears of another year written in the worn out grains. Bleached white wood, cracked with veins, washed away toward the aqua plains. Rusted chains for boats to dock scattered along sullen silver rocks. A weekend away from all those times you had lost your faith. Renewed in the depths of tomorrows deeds, could you promise your children their needs? Secrecy swarmed like the roots of replenished seeds, hidden deep within the weeds. So read the signs, stuck in the sand, a warning for all, even the small. Were the words wrong, did they bleed, or did they scrawl an undetermined brawl? Whyd you turn around, whyd you turn away, trek to your car and speed away? Fallen to the prey of a configured dismay, driven away by all of yesterday. Littered, and used, till it was surely dry, no wonder the people laughed until they cried. Wiped away, packed their bags, left for good, their fun was had. This sea was not touched for days.