With a tinge of sorrow in my eyes,
I look forward to engaging everyone with my waves. 
I, Sea, am happy when I am not focusing on those lies.
Those sandcastles remind me of her,
As if I were a fierce knight waiting for her messenger. 
I am clueless to this feeling in 
broad daylight,
But when the sun starts setting, 
This Sea seeks his sunshine.
Soon, the Moon comes up.
The Sea becomes joyful 
and every visitor departs. 
The evening transitions into night,
The Moon has never been so beautiful despite the scars.
The indelible past leaves its trace.
Is the Moon the reason of the Sea’s unavoidable rage? 
When distance parts them, 
it is hard to breathe.
When both are close, high tides are born of hate.
 

 
By Sarthak Bagde