There She is aged and frail,
Walking to and fro leaving a trail.
Standing by the Ocean every night and day.
Wishing for a miracle someday
crying out so loud,is all what she could .
With all hopes that her faraway Son could hear.
Waves come gushing and hiting the rocks
Leaving no trace of a boy got lost.
Boats come and Boats go,without a trace of the wanted Soul.
Into which She often gets in and then
the search begins as I’m told.
Mother She is to him alone
Having full of hopes to see him grown.
And there She awaits all alone
Adamantly refusing to get back home.