Beneath the moon\'s pale, ghostly light,
The ocean weeps in the still of night.
Its waves, once jubilant, now mournful and blue,
A somber tale it whispers, to me and to you.
The gulls cry out with voices so forlorn,
As if they mourn a love forever torn.
The depths, once teeming with vibrant life,
Now bear the scars of human strife.
Plastic islands drift on its weary chest,
A testament to our careless quest.
The coral reefs, once vibrant and gay,
Fading into a world of dull decay.
Oil spills mar its pristine face,
A desolate mark on its serene grace.
The ocean, in sorrow, cradles our waste,
A fragile world in a state of haste.
But in the sadness, there\'s still hope,
A chance for change, a way to cope.
To heal the wounds we\'ve wrought below,
And let the ocean\'s true beauty show.
For the sea\'s tears are not shed in vain,
They call to us to ease the pain.
To protect this world, both near and far,
For the ocean\'s sorrow is also our scar.