All rivers flow back into the cradle of Tethys,
The playground of chaos – the Leviathan’s kiss.
Locked within are stories of a thousand kingdoms.
Bares the convoy of today’s traveller.
The lonesome respite of an old paddler.
Deep to the attack.
All rivers flow back.
The sofa of memories is my hiding place.
The carpet of size – an infinite God’s face.
Sirens dance in aspirations like teasing phantoms.
Fishing for complements in solitude.
No route but a desire to conclude.
What will it be?
Living by the Sea
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