On an Ocean

On an Ocean
by Chris Biles

Rocking on the waves,
I crest and I crash,
these fickle feelings feeding
the rage.
The ocean is a contradicting
endlessness that prompts
a singularity:
a single end.
When one attempts
to draw a straight line,
there is always a hiccup,
a shudder,
no one can withstand
the strain of expected perfection.
The ideal is really just
an idea too large to grasp,
like an endless horizon.
Nothing can impact the infinite.
I want to make the perfect
ripple, but I only rise
and rock,
I crest and I crash,
fickle feelings feeding.

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