Shore Without the Sea

I know no more of you
Than the shore does of the sea
A lifetime spent haunted
By a murdered memory
Of the ever alive distance
Like the lights between two cities
So far from flame the fire
That there are two eternities

My body, it wanders,
With the wind that holds my hand
Which whispers me to write
About my love on seeds of sand
So the wind may carry it along
To you, wherever you are
On the pillow of a wooden moon
Or beneath the shadow of a dying star

But my thoughts they do confess
That my mind can now surrender
Every dream I had of you
So I may no longer remember
How it was to be untrue
Towards my life which I shaped in sorrow
Wishful that my barren tonights
Shall light our shared tommorow

And I hope you can see me now
(From across the desert you brought to break
The castles I wrought in dreams
To keep us forever awake)
So you know I am free at last
From the future that stems from past
A sole light that sleeps off far
Beyond the cracks of memory
Of how I know no more of you
Than the shore does of the sea

Author: TheHumanAnvil

I find poetry as a gentle reminder, a medium to relay and dwell upon all things considerate people find inconsiderate. Poetry as an art is akin to a lamp or a magnifying glass. It trails volumes of meaning behind obscure, vague words. I have been writing for a time now, and intend to do so for the time to come. And hopefully, hopefully, hope that one day, someday, a person stumbling across this veil of words, find it alluring enough to shift aside the curtain and peer, into the eyes of the naked truth which sways with the wind of reason. If you have any thoughts, it would be my pleasure to know them, if you don't then it would be a pleasure to not. Be my guest. This feast of words is for you.

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