The Shadow’s Lamentation

Drifting between the sea and the sky,

A raft floats not, nor does it fly.

Gliding without wind, wake, or sail,

It carries a lost Shade, leaving no trail.

Curling on foamy greens, wisping through cloudy blues,

Crash waves of a song sung far away by a muse.

A verse, cold and soft, stirring still atmospheres.

The Shade, once a seer, listens—hears,

The song is of ripples made from a tear,

A kiss of despair—bright, bitter fear.

A song of imbalance, of how gentle gloom

Wilts into misery—dreadful doom.

The Shade and raft drift in helpless pity,

As a muse far away rings in the death of a city.