Twisting, twining--vines of smoke reach to the sky.
Ash-black eyes blink at the moon.
A laugh--where did it come from? How cruel it was!--
Sounds on the bitterly distant bay.
A sailor, perched atop an ancient mast,
Gazes down upon the abyss-empty, calling water.
He whispers a name to the wind
As small stars twinkle down his soot-stained cheeks.
He hums a sad, sad tune. The song,
Reminiscent of ages past,
Echoes as he clutches the cracked wood--
Unfeeling laughter crackling through the air as splinters break skin.
How meaningless is love, when it can be stolen
As swiftly as the waves desire?
How meaningless are dreams,
When they go up upon a pyre?
The funeral pyre, adrift like a fallen sun
Upon the night-black sea,
Roars one final time before it disappears.
Love is gone.
Love is meaningless, the sailor knows.
'Tis useless to disobey the fates by trying
To love someone upon the forbidden seas.
You'll lose them in the end.