At the edges of the seas,
Wanderers tip off this world, beyond what anyone has seen.
As the careless winds carry their bones,
The waiting mother feels empty at home.
Abandoned ships with abandoned treasures
Lie abandoned,
All at the edges of the seas.
The sun's shine, caressing the souls
Of the brave and fool who came and went,
Carrying their tales
From fiction to the dreams of dreamers,
Calls a voice that had called before:
"Those who want to face death
May follow the path I had led.
For what worthy is left
In the life that others expect?
Answer me or deny me,
It is you and me,
In the end."
Comments1
Excellent
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.