It Still Burns Here

Vanishing behind the curve,

The Promenade;

Slick and brilliant with rain,

Crowning the crescent sands of the darkling beach.

Black sails and

Towers in the night

Adrift in an inky black sea;

the yearning deep.

The breakers crash in black thunder

Churning the bottomless storm;

Starless depths that consume.

Curses in cathedrals of bones,

An infinite world, an infinite sorrow.

The crests die into a slow, quiet ebb.

An aching silence lays across the land.

Yet soon the wind carries dawn across the sky

Adorning the rise of the swelling sun

As the gulls glide across the perennial;

Crystalline water rushing past,

Jewelled with sunlight

by the thrashing white foam—

The tide of heaven reigns in the east

It still burns here

Brightly.