Bird song awakens my ears.
The sea water at my feet, could this be the end of me?
Washed ashore was the front door to our house.
One way way out, through the shark fins.
I'll take my chance, could be my last.
No looking back on what was left behind.
The shoreline disappears as I sail forward on this wooden wreck, in search or more.
In search of land to fill this everlasting longing for that stable ground.
Where earthquakes happen only twice a year (perhaps once if we're lucky).
It came from the sea (or never we'd be lucky).
The limbs lashing down fractured holes in my door.
The memories we built with our hands were erased when you came in and destroyed everything.
Waves crashing down on me.
My door will not hold for long.
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