I keep drawing lines in the sand

And see them being erased again

Yet again;

Walk not away from those surges

Can I, though afraid I am of the

Pounding tide;

Still and frozen, wearing a soaked

Transparent skin, do I stand there

Drenched in the deluge;

Seeing me shiver, they mock or even

Tenderly reprimand, either cross that line

Or stand back;

But neither do my lines disappear, nor

Can I walk away free, for I carry that tide

And those lines within me…