2015
06.02

Driftwood

I went off to build a house by the sea
a home made of driftwood, only for me
but it was never supposed to be

picking up pieces of
now since long forgotten ships
sorting through the memories
of the ghosts of drowned men
collecting and saving
that which is not yet lost

nights of singing to the sea
trying to calm both her and me

trying to build myself a home
out of pieces of broken dreams
on the constantly beaten shore
living off the fish in the basins
left to me when the tide retreated

days of singing to the sea
that never stopped to listen to me

perhaps the sea just wanted back
what she had once claimed
perhaps she thought that I was stealing
that which was rightfully hers
perhaps I was a fool who tried
to sing for the raging sea
and build my home out of broken dreams
of since long dead men

I went off to build a house by the sea
a home made of driftwood, only for me
but her anger tells me it was not meant to be
and now the sea is drowning me.

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