deep blues

I saw once, in the middle of the sea
The smirk of the moon.
Through the clouds, it whispered,
Unto the children of the sea.

Obsidian it seemed, the water as the current crawled along.
Mysterious, as it gleamed, the smirk of the moon.

A shrine of light amongst a graveyard;
A trap that beckons for the slightest of touch.

The smirk of the moon. I plead, who are you?

The depths below, they wave hello.
Only to disappear, to vanish.
This is all you’ve ever known.

Are our eyes no different?
Are your eyes no different?
Dark beneath the cloak of your bright blues.
A smile that could part my heart at the seems.

Are the eyes not, but a reflection of the soul?
For our souls, as they wait beneath the protection of our skin, they are fragile.
And thus they lay dormant, in fear
of you, the smirk of the moon.

“Come and swim!”, the shaded rock often begins.
And upon leaping from the comfort of my ship, this offer would rescind.

Drowning in the sea, a second hand of thee.
The shine of your wretched smirk, only this —
is what I see.

And for the waves that ramble the truth of your being,
still, the shine of your wretched smirk remains.

For you took my heart.
It’s lost at sea.
Your eyes, no different.
lost at sea.

when I lay down my head and the evening fades,
I wait.

Safe and sound, i cannot hear your cue.
Safe on my ship, far, far from you.

I’ve spent a lifetime though, prepared to descend.
I say now, unto you, smirk of the moon, when will you shine again?

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