Lament
The sailor stands upon the cliff,
Glowering to sea below.
He remembers a young sweet girl,
Eyes like gems and mountains of curls.
A summer spent in blissful union
No cares, no worries, only hearts desires.
A grim slash for a smile is all he musters;
Now that time is dead and gone.
The hounds behind him yelp and howl,
Gunshots pierce the moonlit night.
With a sigh he turns away,
To face the glory of battle’s death
Just then a whisper floats on the breeze;
His eyes glimmer with furious hope.
He spins around and leaps from the rock
Into the dark, cruel waves below.
A Setting Sunrise
On his dying bed, he watched the sun
Take the place of that awful moon.
His tired eyes saw only rays of gold and blue.
The warmth spread through his very limbs
More intoxicating than any gin.
He allowed one last eye to be cast upon the room.
Filthy boards, sweaty rags, and cheap cologne filled the air.
He struggled to his feet, wavering as the years anchored him
At last, he stepped out the door, feet falling on soft grass
And with no regrets and little joy,
He became a part of the morning dew.
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