When tides turn
the rolling flood fills
seems as if there to spill
upon the hallowed grounds
the flow of all that within a moments prayer
Rushes out there to compare
the tragedy of a moment
the internal drive lost in torment
That crushes forth those boundaries
where bears the tears of life's foundries
and pours out its delicate essence of form
In the simple bud of a tear.

That hearts and minds together pressed
there before ourselves - Undressed
The scars of the world that holds us down
suffocates us to drown
In the hollows of our being - seeing
The last fine ray of love outstretched
unable to grasp - We gasp
for the loss that is the woe of the soul
the love that would not come nor go
Just hovers in-between our beings
lost forever to our hearts dealings
that ravishes our sleep to no-more
where brands the pain, annoy, it's sore
upon the cold and lonely floor
Where we weep our bitter dreams.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph