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The Sound a Wave Makes
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Old I read to the moon today
On the sandy beaches.
And every ocean crest that swayed
Would carry my speeches.
An orchestra of waves
Providing seamless harmony with reaches beyond fantasies.
And some say that they crash into the shore with dissonance.
Such cynicism I abhor but take into my realm
And analyze my overanalytical analysis
To see if I infer the non-existent
Through illusory paralysis
And get wrapped inside my own falsest hopes
And mental callouses.
So now you know the reasons I do grace these waves.
And pave the alleyways to every ear
So I can hear what they may say today.
Fruitful melodies forever singing
To these veins forever ringing...
