Can we ever die? The Deaths
that are well-nigh sung by the Oceans.
The Shores stay drunk on them.
The Pearly Night is forever shy.
High and high, the mast appears to touch the glittering sky.
The Sail is taken by the sea winds.
The moon attempts to pry,
into the green waters with floating message bottles.
Do not fear the silent nights.
The Monsters, they show their leprous faces
even in the morning daylights.
The creaking of the timber becomes a song.
For the sailors spending their time, slow time.
The gleaming equinox might call me.
But it is the grounds beyond the shores
where I am supposed to be.
A Home, A Family and Friends
waiting for me.
(The Stories beneath the eyes.)