Moving Depths

All are moving depths,

Distances,

Reaching after success,

Full of mission,

Eventually despair,

Walking on a shore,

With a nearby hurricane,

Watching over us,

Crawling steadfast,

We rely in instinct,

Solely in it,

Which survival learned shall use,

Which unnecessary,

There is an hour,

Of solace,

And prosperity,

Only an hour,

In time the wind gushes loud,

Flying each dusty hair strand,

Masking our face,

Choking our throat,

Till we no longer see,

Till we no longer—

The footsteps left,

Hoping someone finds,

Comes after rescue,

Swallowed,

Erased,

Eternally forgotten,

By growing waves,

As the hurricane eyes,

Freezing,

—Till we no longer be.

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Author: Danica Aquino

Tied the knot with performing arts since fourth grade; is an amateur writer (currently on her quest to writing her first novel); book and animal lover; always entranced by nature.

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