ocean’s time

Breath stirs a spark into a flame, a frenzy that would burn
Bright and
Die.
Drawn into the ocean’s bosom, the ashy remains ride the raging wind which
Throws itself against the wilting world,
A fallen flower that would soon be browned and broken into
Cracks that serve as man’s lullaby,
Rocked and battered into a haunted slumber
Whose snores are the screams of smoky ire.
Marked by blood and sand,
Woven from the scents of salt and oil into a pacific mosaic of
Magic and sin.
In that brief instant it took to blink lies the gap between
The birth of life,
And the death, of death.