Stillness. Beauty.

How can such

Noble grace

Bring such

Lonely endings?

Bestowed the honour

Of the world in

A watchglass

Shapeless arms

Steal a cry and

I weep.

Abandoning myself to

The will of the tide

I find my soul screaming

For secheresse

And my throat grows hoarse

As always.

Nothing left but

Ghastly wails.

Mimicked by

The waves

I stare at the

Motionless surface

So grey

A reflection of pain

Greets my streaming eyes

Is that what I've become?

Throw back my head

Laugh painful sobs

In joy.

Abandoning myself to the will

Of the tide

I find myself screaming

For secheresse

And my throat grows hoarse as always

As always.