Lost Letters

D r o w n i n g

A sea-foam green
Burning with passion
Stares deep into the depths
Of an ocean they want to lite

A piquant like no other
Could fill a hungry pride
If those eyes were to witness
Their pain, like a rising tide

This feeling will torture
This discomfort will last
You'll wish for it to stop
Pray for it to pass

Yet the moment you feel
Safe, sound and secure
With just a hint of unease
But a feeling easy to ignore

It will be back
Just as before
Hungry and parched
Thrashing with unrest

This is what I imagine
Goes through you're head
When you choose words
That once filled me with dread

I feel sorry, I do
For your actions of course
And whoever drinks your words
No matter how corse

Yet in reality
One can not lite an ocean
So you may observe and wish
for an inconceivable will

- A. Dream