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Matt Duke
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Left To the Sea
So time makes a point to be endless, it seems.
The clocks cease to tick as our bodies go weak.
One might mark their existence on a stone we can read.
It is my will to be left to the sea.
It rains from the heaven, the sky, the above,
Creating the coast the great poets dream of.
Where the sun sets atop the briny horizon,
It romantically keeps as the place that I love.
Each wave brings a new batch of treasure to shore.
But deep in the ocean there lies many more.
Where discoveries sit behind them unopened doors
And beckon dreamers to whence man came before.
So regardless of all the things that we believe
Like celestial homes and a heavenly peace.
Born through the vessel, the coffin beneath
It is always my will to be left to the sea.
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They may lay their deceased in the ground, so to rest.
But the rest is quite needless when one's life is spent.
Is there a purpose when the last of your breath stops the beat of your heart in the pit of your chest?
See the answer is written deep down to the bones,
Through the thick wall of flesh to the guarded marrow.
And the natural world is the one left to know how to break it all down for the sake of its own.
Though I'll never be sure if my soul's mine to keep
Or if death ends the quest for the answers I seek.
No matter what happens soon after I leave.
It is my will to be left to the sea.
It is my will to be left to the sea.
It is always my will to be left to the sea.
It is my will to be left to the sea.
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