Waves of tribute
brought forth from space
schemes so grand
ready in a loaded gun
without warnings
without a trace.
Soul of the world,
is it
that make our hearts
inclined to love
or scream with hate?
senses divided
or uncontrollable
after all
sickly excuses
some might call fate.
Who indeed
clouts the seeds
of seas
for us to swallow waves
with a primitive kiss?
glassy comfort
one can bare with ease
but what lurks beneath
in hidden depths of trying shadows
only with both eyes open
can one witness
this.