My heart once belonged to the sea

With a soul that would roam against the ravenous waves

Splashing ceaselessly without control and doubt,

The waves would carry my body along with the fish

Along with the ocean foam, back and forth,

Along with the ocean breeze, close and far

 

This is a passion of a seafarer, limitless

With a body of steel, torn by hunger and ambition,

With a mind of zeal, sparked by pride and hope,

But without the lust for women or anything,

Except for the lust for the authority of the sea,

A world of storms, winds, turbulent currents

 

My heart once rested along the currents,

With a soul casted into the icy mountains and icicles,

But those mountains were storm surges and vengeful ripples,

And soon enough, my heart embraced the storm,

A dead desire for exploration was buried within the mouths of tides,

An obsolete, hapless soul was pried apart by the witch-like echos of the same sea.

 

But my soul and heart for the sea can never die,

It can change and change, but it can never cease,

Because I am seabound, from a naive child to a crippled elder

Because I am seabound, everything that composes me is of the sea,

And if I no longer dance with the sea, like a divorced man who cannot dance no longer with his love,

I can only stare at the sea, longingly, because a flesh stripped of its soul - its impulses and aspirations - is still flesh.