Ocean

Ocean

My life is nothing more,
Than a few pictures in a chest of drawers
I’ve left no more permanent mark,
Than a footprint on a windy shore.

My veins aren’t made of metal, but they rust
Just like my trust, in my own importance.
My time here it shortens to nothing, like the frothing
Waves of a tiring sea. Above all the commotion,
There’s nothing but ocean. And a grave in the sky,
For me.