For the tide of man is but one wave that washes upon these shores,
for his deeds, and fears, and battles will wash away.
Ground and polished like glass will be the memories of ancient days,
shining and glinting in the sun.
We will wear our history like a soldiers ribbons,
reminders of battles won and lost.
And then raining down into the sea, a fresh beginning
will flood our weary souls.
We will swim in the life giving waters,
shedding the grime and stink of war
and we will be free.
