The sea waves are battling the rocks, as if they stood in their way to their heaven. I hear them soar like dragons out from the caves of hell. They fight and fight as if their lives depended on it. And they keep on trying over and over, bashing their way over the rocks, but keep having to go back unwillingly.
The rocks don´t move, they just lay there, as if nothing went by. They don´t stare, they don´t feel, they don´t wish. They are there because they were born there. And that's what they do, and always have done.
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