The ebb and flow can tossel the soul,
leave it stranded or dragged against the seafloor.
The wax and wane can define us in shades,
illuminate our faults or hide our virtues in shadow.

The peaks and valleys can break our spirits,
emptying our lungs or swallowing our perspectives.
the coming and going can be more than the destination,
overwhelming anticipation or uncomfortable obligation.

The systole and diastole can lead us to violence,
feeding the red rage or draining from us our essence.

Peace is only in absence,
the place that can only not;
where no harm can consume you,
no fortune deceive.