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Sea

Waves attack the defenseless shoreline,
Ivory crowns gleaming --
Chiseling away the sun-baked sand;
Penetrating deeper and deeper --
Taking control.

Once cliffs towered high over the rough seas.
Now, nothing remains --
Only stones and shells; debris on a beach.
Each has a tale to tell --
But no one will stop to hear.

I cry out to the sands, to the shells,
"I will listen!"
"What would you hear?"
"The tales you have to tell."
And so I sat there listening... remembering.