Amidst the crashing waves that fiercely surround,  
The current assures the eyes that safety can be found.  
In truth, it drowns those who gaze at the mere veneer,  
And those who reach out will find themselves in fear.  

Oh, you who linger still upon the shore,  
Let me share of one who nearly sank before.  
She bore no hatred, yet it was clear,  
That breathing became a struggle held dear.  

For love, I muse, one must draw a line,  
For what seems calm may be a snare.