The pulsing of my heart is like the sea—
An ebb and flowing tide within my soul
That casts my thoughts adrift without control
Amidst the flotsam of tranquility.
The siren of my past calls out to me,
Seducing me upon a wayward goal;
Her song of bliss, the dream of being whole,
The longing to be loved eternally.
Her name upon my tongue I dare not speak
For such the power to compel my heart
That time nor space would keep me from my goal.
The torture of my silence makes me weak
But I a slave of love would play the part
While love and loss and longing take their toll.