A Storm

The waves crashing around me
remind me of a happy time.
This wind, it whips and snatches
my hair away from my face,
it never lets me hide.
I am the weathered, the broken shell
washed up on the stony shore.
The pieces missing are surely my eyes,
because I can never see your face again.
I may be a rocky building,
that has seen the hands of time
mold the lands according to its will,
just like you did to me.