Friday, February 27, 2009

The Lament of the Depths

Where are their eyes,
blackened by ink?
Veiled is the ocean
In inches they think

Numb is the heart
Beaten for sound
Grey are the days
When only inches are found

The shovel lies there
The pick and the axe
No hand holds them now
All just relax

Let benelity rule
Riches cast to the sea
No light to linger on my words
Washed away eternity

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