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Shackles.

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The treacherous night sky, dark and disturbed,

clouds on the verge of collapse,

weighing with the burden of tears;

a troubled maiden was the sea,

banging against the mighty shore,

longing to be free.


The shore held on

like the terrible hands of man asserting claim,

clasping like a snake.

He knew what she was capable of-

thus feared the shore to free the sea

and chained her against her will.


But the sea was all her own

and never can he own that which was born to be free.


Doused she the flames

that sought to burn her, and

danced she in her staunch waves of rebellion,

beared she the unbearable

and held she burdens beneath her depths;

a dark and fierce warrior holding against the unforgiving world.


She's ruthlessly polluted,

her chastity abused,

her emerald blue has dulled and faded

yet, with every tear, she grows stronger.


There will come a day when

the shore can no longer hold her

and to its greatest dismay,

SHE WILL CRASH THROUGH,

thundering and roaring,

her cries of freedom echoing,

breaking every barrier of control

and consuming all in her way.






Pic courtesy: Pinterest

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