end. (folk alternate)

I swallowed the sea. The waves keep pounding. The tide keeps surging. But I can't help thinking innocent people are going to die. I thought I saw a need. I wanted to be useful. (That was the end). But wanting makes slaves of fishermen. Maybe if I can stop wanting--no one will die.
So I claim this beach as mine. They're already out there--collecting curiosities, kicking fish, ransacking shipwrecks. Taking in the beauty of it all. So this is the part where I just sit here.
And that's it. That's the end of it. This is the part where I just sit here my mouth closed. Forever.
The waves and the tides roll. There's so much more to tell. So much more. But what if I can't kill? So this is it.
But there's so much more to tell.