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The waves come lashing to break the rocks;
waves go back, softly in a defeat.
They come in the languorous sleep of the sea.
The waves come in a fury,
and slowly recede in a forgetful silence.
The waves come with the torrent
with a load of questions,
agonized in the absence of a definitive mark
on their shifting, writhing canvas of foam.
Waves come in the moonlit passion;
they come in the blinding clarity of the sun.
Waves come in search of the truth;
waves go back crushed
by the images of the sun
shining, dazzling
in every particle of the sand on the shore.
Sitting on the rock
the mermaid will watch
and think, : on a certain day her watch will end.
The depth is where she is destined to go.
Sushama Karnik
Thanks for the image @Milan Lakić
June 9, 2015.
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