Ah, life is over-much

in its excess

both love and hate

joy and pain

what's happiness

is that which but shivers

in the coldness

of my doubting heart-



in two worlds I dwell

the living and seemingly dead

the former indeed

gives me much more dread



what's fidelity?

that of little

I've known or read

poor poets

they should lament

over love's self-exultation

the virulence

of the words they said



ah, the open sea

how majestic

how restful

how serene

how welcoming

as the last sunset

embraces its waters

in perfect peace

and acceptance

this is silent perfection

more than words

which are but imperfection



this, this sacred moment

my heart is in harmony

like every note of the symphony

over is the introduction

then the exposition

I'd need no recapitulation

I have chosen

not in doubt nor fear

but in gladsome resignation

only the waters will remember

what I have lived for

what I have written