There is nothing going on beneath those waves;
In the realm of memories, the mind saves.
Tornado sometimes brings them on the surface;
The grime, shells, sand, and the jewels.
Appreciate the storm for bringing up the past;
The glory that fiasco brings seems to last.
How does it feel to relive old memories?
Tarnished or glorified by the present tragedies.
There is nothing going on beneath those waves,
The short-lived hurt, and the joys that it contains.
In the oblivion, the beautiful dreamy place: peace prevails.