The Escape

The waves crash in sound motion,

Only a bitter taste in my mouth, 

My heart pounds in heavy portions,

The gall of the gulls are too loud. 

I breathe alone, unsteadily, 

The gumtrees swaying with my hair, 

I hope that I am ready, 

Though elms already see through my despair.

Yet it seems an escape from the fluorescence,

Of cold, artificial lights, 

If only there was a true reason,

That I lived on in this genuine, watery night.