.

It is light and it is late

On the shores of black stone

Yet the soothing refuses me

For I am tired of the tide,

.

I may sigh and I may wait

Upon the dust, upon the bone;

I am the enemy

That I must cast aside.

.

Bellow the winds and the water,

Awaiting under a pale eye

Their passenger’s singing fare;

.

I am the Night’s daughter

Yet how my sun is but a lie

And only this smile knows the prayer.

.

When the sky is hurt, only the birds sing.