Like Ink to a Page

Like ink upon the page,

Like water to the wave,

Seemingly essential,

Yet their happiness

Doesn’t solely depend

On the existence of either of them,

The ink could dry

The page could burn

The wave could die

And for the water, so many possibilities of decay,

And yet,

The ink could be pieced together,

The page could contain a message,

The water could rise and create the waves

That for the man at sea

Either save or end his way

Ink is like oil

And the oil spills upon the water

A page is scribbled upon and tossed to sea,

But not before the match fell on print precisely,

Hell to come if flame to meet,

And the wave would see to that.  Emptiness.