The Sea and the Wrecked Sky

The night brought chilling winds upon the quiet harbor
And made the crane send creaks that echoed in my head,
Such sound that bears a fragile taste of sweat and labor
Reminds me of the days that passed and skins I shed.

The restlessness of youth has carved in me a statue,
The patience of becoming and wisdom made me see
My cyclopean masonry transformed to virtue –
I find my image in the stonework of the quay.

Cold waves defy the lethargy with rabid freshness
Against the vintage architecture of my haven
And yet, the monotonous pounding changed to stillness
Within a dream so deep and curiously woven.

The moon was molten red and it inspired anguish
And lifeless stars were bowing overhead,
The sea was tired and the waves, they seemed to languish
Upon aeons of vitality they’d spent.

Beneath the cracking heaven, ragged, weak and lonely,
I saw myself, the same old seaman, salt in eyes,
Laughing on the foremast of an unmanned galley,
Embracing the humanity’s foretold demise.

A tidal euphony entwined in slow transition
With my upbeat pouncing heart and breath so spry;
The sun awoke me but it couldn’t break the vision
Of white sails mourning the collapsing of the sky.