Sweet silver tongued,
she walks by the bay,
invites all the gulls and the pipers to play.
She stretches a hand and th'overclouds give way.
She understands we all ache to obey.
Singing a song,
a ballad or two,
With wild abandon our volume, it grew.
Shushing and laughing we trip on the sand,
Cacophonous four legged marching band.
We sit for a moment,
Silence envelops, almost drowning the waves,
and I see
she is standing with anger,
anger that sends young men to their graves,
and is turning to me.
When her heart speaks,
it speaks oh so clear,
The sound of her voice echoes on in your ear.
Basorexic,
I admire her frame.
Mild alexic,
analytical games.
She leaves me alone,
and up on the hour,
the mood itself crumbled, acerbic and dour.
After she's gone I am tangled in gloom.
In the dusk of the sea
all the sailing ships spoom.
Walk by myself,
I sit with my face tilted up to the sun
beneath the crawling sky.
Heart torn to bits by
the wretched words spat out
before it begun
and you tell me not to cry,
livid and restless
from every ling'ring sound.
I close my eyes and I
try not the hear
this masquerade I have found
pecking and crowing, oh
please leave my mind.
For once, please be kind.
It seems that our long-fated stars weren't aligned.
Every love letter left patiently unsigned,
remains as a stain of a heart left behind.