The Wave

I never tried to understand Life to its most elegant and refined details.

Its deepest secrets, I feared,

Were locked in a hidden prison,

Bombarded by raging waves,

Its doors beat by howling winds and intrepid storms.

Still,

Life holds to itself.

It moves according to one law.

It holds no promises.

It only does what is done to it.

Hours seem meaningless.

With hope slowly descending

And with grace painfully losing its vigour,

I am an entity of another nature.

Soon I shall become the wave.

If I haven’t already, at this moment,

I am aware of my magnitude.

My palms shall beat against the door,

My feet shall kick.

I will know no tomorrow.

I will only know today.

I will only know that whatever I am doing

Will somehow be okay

When I get back.