It is lonely over here
in the corner dim, the bar a-brim
frothing at spill - the suds of swill,
yet I perch still
for neither beer nor cheer; all alone in my sphere,
a shadow - shadowing over here.

Wistfully - I entreat the shore
that tiding sea - swell comfort on me;
briny in spume - cleansing n' bloom
my wreathy loom,
by Poseidons' lore; soak me in bore - that I languish no more
away, away from the lonely shore.

I splay to the moon
let celestial light pierce me a-bright,
that illuminate rain purge the strain
away from this pain,
though sparkle the dune - I mope and swoon the absence of boon
ever still lonely - lonely by the moon.

Dreadfully I grow weary
now in retreat - to an abode of sleet
frigid like the maze pulsing this daze,
my core – it frays,
too numb to be teary, bleak and ill-dreary - at night it is eerie
so - so alone and weary.

A silhouetted stray
internee of mourn, corona unborn
if only I borrow - a longing for the morrow, to slumber this sorrow;
on clouds I pray with seraphs I sway - to hymns of May
dreaming - dream of a silhouetted stray.