Waters carve their path
And a sculptor’s tool chips the rock.
Yet the chipped rock is called ‘art’
And natures carve a mere scar.
…and so dear is love
A water droplet goes with the flow,
And a ship towards its destiny,
Be it against or with the tides.
…and so dear is love
For call it the ‘scar’,
Or the ship that rips the ocean apart,
It is that spirit that encompasses the All,
Yet the gentle voice that speaks between hearts.
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