In the closing of a wave.

Silver curls upon the waves, as if by day she ages well, in the cresent of the moon, a nightly darkened swell Has the heart confronted deeply the conveyance of her tide She knows the shores abundantly And rushes by his side Where is the serenity in the closing of a wave, when leaving comes And lingers as a longing crave The sea and her abrevent love Amidst the dark as brave Although the sun seems prominent And morning of greater peace, she loathes the nights that lay in darkness, awaiting its release Starlight becomes as haunting when love begins it journey home As the tides all move in motions of their very own Love is deeply kept in question, and lays no quoral on the sands For nothing but the waves of silver Represent their holding hands.