The scattered pages of a book by the sea
Held by the sand, washed by the waves
A shadow forms cast by a cloud,
Skimming by as eyes of the past, but the rising tide
Absorbs them effortlessly claiming.
They told of one who tired of all singing,
"Praise him, praise him."
"We heed not flatterers," he cried,
"By our command, waters retreat,
Show my power, halt at my feet,"
waters
washed
tired
throne
nothing
dared
laugh
effortlessly
north
where
destroy
turning
majesty
dashed
accusing
winds
surround
waves
absorbs
cause
cried
crown
forms
advance
claiming
flatterers
scorn
themselves
storm
hopes
those
their
offerings
often
forced
opened
though
overcast
power
pages
peace
little
sinking
command
praise
cloud
ranks
retreat
scattered
rising
shadow
singing
skimming
smile
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