Whats To Call Home

I been here before, the waves towering, the constant hitting of the rocks seems to fit. The lack of sun is leaving a print. The burning sensation reminds me what is good will be bad. I wasn’t given much choice nor was I thrown. I was born in the unknown. I hear every pump my blood goes. The moans, cries & such noise leaves me terrified. They reach out to what seemed known, but thrown to my home. I’m not here alone, in such darkness formed our home.