The sand is so white,

it blinds in the summer.

It can look like snow in the winter,

or a soft beige-white rug in the fall.

The ocean sparkles almost a silver, blue hue,

with somnolent waves, in-out, ever moving,

peaceful and unaware of the chaos surrounding.

In the depths of the waters,

colorful fish Earth will never see,

swim and chatter in tiny voices

like wind chimes caressing any ears near.

The ocean sparkles almost a silver, blue hue,

holding small islands afloat

—one with an abandoned house—

and doesn't flinch when death,

walks to its shores to poison it with an evil,

for it is too pure, serene, ever moving,

to become the darkness that has stumbled upon it.