I once heard it told, in parallel terms, that we are all islands and I attest this to be true.
Waves of Time have eaten away my substance and leave me sinking to the Ocean floor.
What misery Time can be, if watched by eyes that are not willing to look elsewhere.
Measuring life lived by Time, will yield you empty and always wanting; look elsewhere.
The years pass and I waver in what I believe, but hold fast to Time being my enemy.
Ocean currents swallow what could have been a paradise and leave me with a paradox.
From day-to-day, Beauty is abandoned by the tide to my shore, but satirically reclaimed.
My fingers of sand hold her while moonlight glows, but by sunrise, she is sustained adrift.
Seasons bear Joy and Pain alike and in the same unkempt bed, I lie with them both.
The legacy I once hoped to obtain; the life I once sought through pain, now modified.
These days grow shorter, but in the same, longer with her waiting along the shoreline.
I long for the day, that Pain drifts to the doldrums and I harbor only Joy in my cove.
Joy, you have rested in my arms and I have feasted upon the peace in your eyelids.
Stray not from your once conceived course, but find your quarters in my strength.
I am an island and with each passing day, I am defined by my dear Ocean.