Land's end - the end of land.
What's left - the sea.
Limits beyond our imagination
verging on limitless, that mass of ocean free.
When it is soiled we are roiled,
yet barely a prick upon her knee,
that beautiful sea.
And she will return to thee,
unscathed, you'll see.
To each other were are but masks,
not seeing the real visage behind,
not knowing each other, really.
What is there we don't see?
Beneath the mask is a person,
the person we may never see.
Why not reveal what lies beneath?
Why are we always hiding.
Divergence, it begins at birth.
We start out alike, we see others,
we make friends easily.
Then we form clicks, groups,
or we hide from the world in
our own individualist hibernating way.
We diverge, until the time we realize
the folly of our ways.
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