“At least its the ocean I drown in; right?”

There, is always a change amidst the coves.
There, is always a played heart of stone.
Walking alone the shore line.
I’m given a little time.
In negative film, and file.
Fine one’s in line’s of note and partridge.
I feel as though the breeze of the ocean consumes, yet amongst the lies.
I; find truth.
Working away a life of dismay.
The lights they chine ever, away.
When will i have mine.
To be a mystery in tuned musical chord.
Chains hold me by the throat along the cliff and shore.
Scars design and trickle along my fickle being.
For I am shadow, a disassemble of what is left of a soul.
Lord, have me under the grasp of the winter.
Only holy and holly the lands die before me.
Why!, oh mister sky must you be so dark in the oceans storm.
Storing inside the feelings to give, i’m only feeling not enough,and wanting more.
What am I to the siren’s.
What am I to the gulls.
What to sail a sea?
But a fool i tell you.
But a damn beckoning coward.
Walking endlessly in a stopped pocket watch and poetry.
A gored deer on the pasture given another fire to burn upon.
To the siren’s…
I feel but lone, and hurt.
For the past are waves of the darkest shadowed oceans storm.
Within I, is a sea, within the breeze is me, within you, I see endless possibilities.
What am I, to you ocean breeze.
Tis what be me walking; an drown prophecy.
yet in grasp of coils and sad ploy.
I feel your ever ending complex glory
Please stay Mrs fair siren ocean breeze.
For I am the fool poet standing at your cliff.
What may I be soon to see?

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