Black Sea Waters

Water, such a soft substance,
Crashing against the hard shore rocks,
Is it, attempting to escape, 

The confines of its sea-ness,
Away from the ships,

That impose their business onto its calm existence?
Industrial cargos and cruise entertainment,

Allowing themselves onto the territory of the salty vastness?

Or is it merely polishing the stones,
Into almost perfection,
To most eye sights jagged edges,
But just the jagged way it should and loves to be,
The waves, generously and patiently, 

Even more tirelessly sharpening,

Or maybe smoothing the gray stones.

Or maybe it's just bunches of pairs of hydrogen atoms bonding with another  unsuspecting oxygen atom, transitioning energy due to the oscillation of water particles by the frictional drag of wind over the water's surface.

Black sea waters. Remain a mystery.