The Black Atlantic
darkling i listen
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This is bleak but in beautiful translation
From infinity, to the pen, to the mouth
I sing for the undertow
Darkling, I listen to its crash upon my shore
These scars are but memories to cherish
Promises carved into a chasm wall
I remain hidden inside their words,
Composed like bronze
I bend a knee
Before the sun that dives in the sea
When I die, fling my ashes high,
For the wind to disperse
All my intentions remain ethereal,
All my dreams impossible,
Save the ones I lived
When I die, fling my ashes to the wind