I rode the crested waves
that graced the coptic sea
And crashed onto the shores
of North Africa
The water was so warm
the blood hotter still
No one went on living
unless they had the will
You never made a friend
nor acquaintance by the hill
Life was sweet but short
too easy to be killed
Your best friend was a bottle
A cigarette or two
And in emergencies
a colt 45 would do
We smuggled guns and roses
across the white hot sands and dunes
We bartered in broken languages
while softly whistling tunes
With a third eye looking back
where bullets fell as rain
Onward to Gibraltar
dip salute , rev the engines of the plane
There is no water to quench you
To wash away the sins
The waves of guilt flow over you
They bring the sharks with fins
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Comments6
Good write S.
Thank you for reading Orchidee .
Squawk ! Watch it Cabin boy ! Squawk !
Great write full of imagery.
Thank you Michael Edwards .
Good write.
Thank you Goldfinch60 for reading .
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