The raging of the ocean,
motion... continual;
Yet still it has a reason,
a surging season.
I am carried by tides,
and random rides,
tossed around,
yet still bound.
Let my cry resound,
and my heart pound.
God, let me live life,
with no more strife, or running from the knife
in my mind.
Give me a reason,
my own season,
so I can soar.
God, give me a purpose to pursue.
