Waste the calmness of the sea 
To measure self-possession. 
Destroy composure 
To determine charity 
And wear away 
The truth of silence 
To count the wind left over. 
The barren devastation 
Can’t take advantage 
Of the inactivity 
And only death will grab 
The poisoned stillness 
That gives me chills 
With the same question 
That I ask for days.