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The crashing waves dissolve the shore,The crashing waves dissolve the shore
The crashing waves dissolve the shore, As tides surrender to the sea, Where ancient monarchs dance once more, In wild, unburdened majesty. No robes of silk, no crowns of gold, They wear the moonlight on their skin, A timeless story, stark and bold, Born where the endless deeps begin. Both beautiful in silver light, They move to rhythms long forgot, Two shadows cast against the night, Bound to a world the courts are not. The ocean hums its timeless tune, A breathless, rising melody, The sacred song of sea and moon, That sets the captive spirits free. Their kingdom has no walls of stone, Only the shift of drifting sands, Where sorrow cannot claim a throne, Nor shadows bind a spectral hand. The human world is far away, A fading spark of dust and pride, While they remain until the day, To rule the turning of the tide. And as the morning steals the night, The silver fades to gentle gold, They melt into the waking light, As softly as a prayer retold. No longer bound, no longer cast To wander through the lonely deep, The weary monarchs rest at last, Where quiet waters sink to sleep
The loud waves break down the land by the sea, As the sea levels rise and fall, Where old kings move again, In untamed, carefree beauty. No long clothes of soft material, no headpieces of precious metal, They have the moon's light on their bodies, An eternal tale, clear and strong, Created where the limitless ocean starts. Both pleasing in shiny gray-white light, They go to patterns of movement long forgotten, Two dark shapes appear against the darkness, Tied to a place that royal homes are not. The ocean makes a continuous sound, An awe-inspiring, increasing series of notes, The respected music of the sea and moon, That frees the trapped souls. Their realm has no solid barriers, Only the movement of floating grains, Where sadness cannot take control, Nor dark shapes hold a ghostly arm. The world of people is distant, A disappearing flash of tiny particles and self-respect, While they continue to exist until the time, To control the changing sea levels. And as the daytime quietly takes away the darkness, The shiny gray-white turns to soft yellow, They change into the brightening glow, In a gentle manner like a solemn request told again. No more tied, no more thrown To roam without purpose in the deep waters, The tired rulers relax at last, Where calm waters go down to rest.