The waves rise abundantly against the shell
Beckoning it to listen and call to their constant push and pull

The shell is bright and creamy, soothing to see
If one were to pick it up they would find love surely

But the shell is vacant, empty of life
And if you bring it to your ear you hear the ocean
It's mere reflection
If you brought it home you would hear no motion

Yet deep inside you can see scratches on the walls
Remnants from the life that once scuttled there
It ran, it clamored, it jumped and hammered
Busy and ready to dive into the waves

All that's left now is shattered remnants, quiet whispers of the sea that cries to it
Enough to be pretty
Enough to be accepted
Enough to be praised
Like a corpse in the middle of an adoring funeral