A heart on sand, waiting destiny beyond.
Blue waters who laugh, at its pathetic portray.
Anxiously it stares at its permeable foe,
When it comes rippling to swallow, as swiftly as it can go.
At a fingers distance, though it touches the rim,
But waters cannot harm the solitary sand heart’s limn.
Molded in a shape with a momentary grace,
The sand heart awaits the alacrity of waves.
When deep in the dark, liquid curls gathers force,
In an instance of rage, roaring with feelings all foul.
Hastening furious waves, with notions none remorse,
They eventually consume the sand heart whole.
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