And these, my hopes,
now come to stillness,
spent in small and looping
hopeless, frothing eddies,
broken on stones
upon this lifeless shore.
The angels weep on me.
Their sobs are thunder.
They snap their saddened sodden wings
to the rhythm of
my racing, raging heart
and sear the sky
with lightning.
And out there, my dreams…
There! Floating on the rising tide,
are sailing far and fast,
eluding me forever
with full-wind sails,
but a
cracking mast….
They do not know.
Let them drown adrift,
as my sorrow
in my cups.
For now, though despairing in black,
beneath black clouds,
by black water, in black mood,
I yet await
the shining sun,
and
the turning tide.
Another stunning piece, Alfred. I really enjoyed it. 🙂🙃
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