The sea does not forgive, it consumes,
Drawing me into its embrace, cold and unyielding,
My heart, once aflame, now chills to the bone,
Sinking without protest, it succumbs to the void.
“Other fish,” they whisper, but what of it?
No warmth in their words, only hollow echoes,
For I am not a fish, but a soul bereft,
Doomed to wander these waters alone.
Each wave a memory, each current a regret,
They drag me further from the light above,
The depths press upon me, relentless and cruel,
Until I am nothing, just cold, just lost.
Here, in the heart of the abyss, I am still,
Frozen, as if time itself has ceased,
My heart, an anchor, drags me down,
And I am left to rest, untouched, in the deep.
Laeeq Orrie, 18
South African poet
Ink from his heart, poured upon paper