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Aug 2016
Adrift on waves that I compose
A shipwreck life of word and prose
Longing for the shore that shows
How blue my tide of sorrow flows
When her horizon sets and goes
To hide behind her vacant glows
Then pulls me in her undertows
No man could fathom deeper lows
The depths of anchored lovers' woes
Not even Lord Poseidon knows
How far I've sunk to feel her throes
Submerged in frigid voids she chose
Our hearts immersed in shadows froze
Yet like a thawing winter's rose
We still found warmth to melt the snows
So my descension never slows
Nor grants my flooding lungs repose
I'll drown in her 'til my eyes close
Until my dead man's chest implodes
Michael Marchese
Written by
Michael Marchese  30/M/California
(30/M/California)   
244
   Isabelle
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