The sea calls its waves back
No matter how errant their swell
Cavernous or flat, shores abandon the froth
Old waves still try to offer en guise of goodbye
Shores do not belong to either sea or clouds
The moment they have is an escape from time
For when the sea calls its thunders home
Rocks forget their moss and in secret they dry
A siren will bathe in moonlight and in promises
While a poet upon the blue smoke inhales
Both lonesome, both free, yet to the same sea bound
And to its rocky shores in perdition aligned
It is all blue and dark, but a poem it remains, and a lost sigh
To the swirl of the days spent upon a shady shore
Where time awaits its rhyme, its rhythm, its turn
To hold promises once made to deep, brown eyes
When a siren lost her song under moonlight and in froth
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