Saturday, December 16, 2006


The king sat on a corral throne
Long time swallowed by the waves,
Fingers clenched bleach-white as bone
For the dream he could not save.

The seas are silent always now,
The ships pass by unharmed,
The salt spray of the ocean crows
For it no more is harmed.

About him ruins of the ages;
Queen and court decomposed
In the rustle of history's pages,
And why he stays no man may know.

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