Lived a man, not ages past;
Had one love – the sea…
But sadly when he breathed his last,
His beloved he couldn’t see…
The last of all that he beheld,
Was neither sea nor all;
All he saw was misery,
And all the trees were felled…
The rain came down in all around,
And yet the flames did spur…
Coaxed on and on to burn and burn,
Just fuelled on but incurred…
For the fates now rest and wait;
The soul can’t get the gate
And all the flames, devoured; tall
And menacing were they…
Irony! O Irony! Though hand is what I see!
That a man of all the sea
Must sleep on a bed of fire…
Irony! O Irony! Though hand is what I see!
No harmony, nor fondling,
No last touch of the seas
Lord above! O Lord above!
Cannot thou pity he –
He who loved the temptress blue,
The Daughter of Thy Power…
Wished to be interred by her,
His last wish too denied,
Rested he now on a bed,
Of coal and of fire….
Time alone is the last
Anomaly; Wait, see !
The rising ghost, the kindred spirit,
Like the smoke grey-white!
Hovers over the bed of coals,
Like the hissing soot…
And the spectre, rising, shot –
Over the heads into thee…
O Goddess-Change! O Queen of Rage!
This spectre is now you’re heir!
The melancholy whistling wind,
Now calls forth this avenger
Of his rage; and no less sage,
Avenged he did his all !
Now all see the hood – His rise!
The serpent now strikes its fangs!
All this for love and not of hate,
Succeeded at last, he did!
Now he rests in all his peace,
Knowingly or otherwise…
The price of this unsteady fall...
Rests he now innocently,
While guilt is on and on of all
Those who did rift the lovers…
But the thirst of his now quenched,
No revenge he desires,
All he wants is to sleep and lie
In those cooling waters….
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