Above the sea,
With clouds slipping,
The old moon runs
All this ocean is,
Glass and dream
Is all mirror, I face
Reflections of loss
And promise unknown,
Anxious, clear emptiness,
The peace of held sorrows
Of a lone soul floating out,
Tossed in the blood tides
Of dashing hope, blurry,
Bane dream made reals,
In this picture, slow runs,
Of ocean moods, my being,
Two moons anchored by the sea.
Sep 18, 2015
Sep 18, 2015 at 1:47 AM UTC
Above the sea,
With clouds slipping,
The old moon runs
All this ocean is,
Glass and dream
Is all mirror, I face
Reflections of loss
And promise unknown,
Anxious, clear emptiness,
The peace of held sorrows
Of a lone soul floating out,
Tossed in the blood tides
Of dashing hope, blurry,
Bane dream made reals,
In this picture, slow runs,
Of ocean moods, my being,
Two moons anchored by the sea.
Request permission to use this poem