The Sailor.

Alone ashore,
Sit I, upon the very stone:
We kissed bye before,
The long voyage,
Waiting...

On bristled buttocks;
Time's trying tirelessly,
Scratching the wound--
Your departure in my heart left.
The scorching sun tans my skin,
Thence cruel cold cracks my bones...

Oh, anxiety rises with every tide,
And warring waves whisper,
Elegies to glorious times,
Long gone!

The monster's back!
Vomiting blue-eyed angels;
Obsessed with our accursed soil...
What wonder lauds you,
Cling onto the wreath,
Scattered on their blessed soil?

Whereto you sailed, Udiah;
How are waters taking you?
Mine grew wild and cold, when our sun died,
And from my lonely presence:
The moon withdrew its glare...