Sorry sailors
Prisoners of tides
Regretful faces pale
Faceless strangers
From many places
Death letters arrive in the mail
Society doesn\'t understand
The power of man
Wielding powers
Of mortality
In the upturned
Palms of hands
Seduced by temptation
Weak in the arms
Of life\'s bleak situations
Forked tongue
Scales
The subject
Of dark web tales
Under sheets she hides
Wool pulled over
Her victims eyes
Devils on shoulders
Denier of life
No chance to grow older
Lustful temptation presides
With her
Lush lips
Diseased hips
Savoir the flavour
Of the serpents kiss
Innocent fingertips
Lead to still
Blue lips
Forever locked
In deaths decaying grip
Greif and sorrow
A realisation of no tomorrow
A father struggles to comprehend
Death around the corner
For all of us....
But at what speed do we take the bend?