No, all tides are not broken,
Tides do not add up momentum there,
Scum is around, muddy sea water moving
Along the sea-line with shore, time of recess,
I have gathered tasks; just sit at sea side,
Coming here needs money, more needs are
With tasks of asking me within me,
Can clouded mind appeal for rest?
Can it wake up for prayer upon wind?
How things come here and make scum,
And goes beyond blue horizon, it is a beat
Upon sea-surface, and it takes rest for moments.
Deep into waters, resides one sentiment
That is peace, ahead of truncated dreams,
Money and mercy are two sides of the dipped aura,
Still I am in the game of planning and plundering.