Benthic

She stood there with her arms embracing

The salty wind that blew into her hair looking towards the waves which brought 

With themselves the hope to stay alive.

Apart from the hopes,

It also gifted her some of its ornaments

To mend her soul

Calcareous little jewels

She holds in her palm.

Staring at it,

She frees herself off the mystic dilemma

That kept her cold

She steps towards the waters

Leaving the sand behind

Washing her ruthless self,

To begin again

While leaving, she sat back and wrote a poem

For the ones who go through the agony

She left a shell along her thought

And this poem for the souls which get stray.