Tides of recurrence

Barefoot, I walked
On the loose sand 
one after the other
the surge from the bottom up
of a renewed emotion
the wet, cold sand, had drowned me
it had tightened my breathe
but as it escaped
It took everything with itself
the earthly longing, the long waiting
the tragic death of a child
the fading away of the wild
and as the surge was about to cease
i had walked a step too many
away from the grains, i had delved against the tides
and they came and washed away, recurring
taught a lesson so haunting
life was a series of tides
it was recurring.
Yet, the same water would never return
taking away a little sand.
Barefoot, walking in the midst
of the cold and the wet
I had returned to land, alive
for now, determined I was
I would die never,
I would recur, just as naive. 


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