The Ocean

I wonder if the ebb and flow
Of the Ocean's tides
Is how she sighs and lets go
Of grave secrets she hides

She knows of ancient lores of kings
She knows of broken hearts
And everyday her waters sing
Tales men cannot tell apart

And when I cried to her one day
I knew with me she'd cried
Her solemn wave rose to the bay
And fell gently by my side

Now when I pick up seashells
I often hear strange wails
Like forgotten, arcane spells
That unfold the Ocean's tales

Silent Night

Another night falls
And as my last cigarette is put out
Another lone star shines in the sky
And a single tear escapes my eye
Another time I sleep alone
On my empty bed, cold as stone.

A song from the grave

I am but a drifting cloud in the sky
I am but a blade of grasss
I am but a teardrop in a blind man’s eye
I am but a broken piece of glass

I am but a grain of desert sand
I am but a whisper of the wind
I am but a forgotten gypsy band
I am but a loveless soul that never twinned

I am but a lonely house in the bare tree
I am but a ring in a church bell
I am but a low tide in the deep sea
I am but a leaf that withered and fell

I am but a sad song they sing along with
I am but a ghost you can’t see
I am but a lost, forlorn myth
I am but a memory.