I could walk the shore
Of many a darkened coast.
Never finding
What I crave the most.

It's not the constant pounding
Of the tons of spray.
Or the spasmodic placing
Of giant breakers in gray.

It's not the darkness
Or the fear of expanse
That seems to linger
And the vastness enhance.

But the sea possesses it;
The opponent of balm.
Be it heaving and rumbling
Or exceptionally calm.

Constantly shifting
Yet, remaining the same;
Changing its features
But continuing its name.

The fact verily haunts me
Knowing my love is there
Somewhere in the misty strangeness
Of the dark sea air.