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I went to the sea to heal my heart. I found a balm in the sighing waves, the soothing salty air. She's a fickle lover; It's often said by sailors and ****** and other lost souls whose songs become the wailing wind. The mad man has the saddest laugh; maniacal and strange, with tears in his eyes, pleading for lost love's return. I'll climb the rigging and heave the line perhaps in time I'll forget why I came, and only curse the northerly wind. Three points off the starboard bow I see her walking on the waves. My heart still has far to go. I've come to laugh that burnt tragic laugh of men who stay too long at sea and now I've forgotten why I came.
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Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 3:39 PM UTC
The Briny Balm
I went to the sea to heal my heart. I found a balm in the sighing waves, the soothing salty air. She's a fickle lover; It's often said by sailors and ****** and other lost souls whose songs become the wailing wind. The mad man has the saddest laugh; maniacal and strange, with tears in his eyes, pleading for lost love's return. I'll climb the rigging and heave the line perhaps in time I'll forget why I came, and only curse the northerly wind. Three points off the starboard bow I see her walking on the waves. My heart still has far to go. I've come to laugh that burnt tragic laugh of men who stay too long at sea and now I've forgotten why I came.
robert-carl-brusberg
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Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 3:39 PM UTC
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