Sitting in the quiet pulchritude,
In limerence, I am drenched,
Luculent from head to foot.
Watching people gallivanting -
Some agathist, impavid with life,
In eucatastrophe, they are.
The lollylags and misantrophic,
Dillydallying with humdudgeon.
The rugrats in constant bumfuzzle;
Stroking their rumpots are the drunk,

A man and a woman, and a bingle,
Then a belgard was exchanged.
No noise, just music in my ears;
No argle-bargle of the blatherskite;
No conniption from old hag.
No need to absquatulate,
Just enjoy the quiet festivities.

Tiny hairs on my arms stood on end,
As I felt the wind surround me.
What a beauty this place is,
The hoddy-noddies took for granted.
Melancholy, serenity, strangely nostalgic.
Pictures of the past and the future,
Disembogue, delivered from my head.
All this images ensorcell me, over and over,
With a final intake of breath and a shudder,
I took in the picture, forever encapsulated in my mind.

In the intangible ocean,
Harsh waves crash upon themselves
In a seemingly usual motion,
Driven by the catastrophe, embedded in their circumstances.
Nevertheless, no importance is given,
For it shall eventually disembogue into a steady realm
And amidst countless dead bodies,
The great war will be over,
Remembered as a mere second of weakness.

Children drown,
But the waters only do what they must do;
Great vessels sink,
But the sight is not a new one in glorified eyes.

She frowns before the sea,
She is compelled, she must survive;
Such fear is meaningless--  
And the waves bluster.
She has now been drowning for countless few years,
With no sign of convalescence.
Poor thing, she couldn't bear
The murderous tides of her destiny;
Her cries for help couldn't prevail over the crowd of voices
Dismissing her despair.