Be Still The Ocean

I can feel it in the lack of farewell.
Goodbye's fire, is this where it leaves me?
Does it all start five feet ahead of me?
Inside my head, a bell, its crying knell.
In my spirit, I can feel the waves swell.
Like an executioner's last decree,
A snapping cage after a moment free,
A storm after a decade's worth dry spell.
For not even sonnets could be crisper.
His eyes, it's like looking through God's window,
But peering in feels such like a sin though.
Longing to shout, instead I whisper,
Like the shaky steps of a newborn foal,
"My Love, Be Still The Ocean In My Soul."