I am the ocean,
there's a storm dwelling in me.
Looking for my next victim,
who could it be?
innocent you, maybe?
stay out of the water,
for there's a storming on its way.
thunder and lightening set the mood.
the clouds rolling in,
then there's innocent you.
my bottled up hatred,
has raised up the seas.
submersing you into the deep blue sea.
you hold your breathe,
yet it's to late,
for that you are trapped.
there's no turning back,
there is no surviving this storm, me.
he is the sun,
he was sent to fight off the storm,
therefore killing me.
he set you free,
therefore he is better than me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem