Black Tendrils

The surf rattled its applause on a stony shore White gulls swirled high over a black stone tower The clouds ripped across the sky, the wind sang its song Before the morning hour, a woman walked alone The cold wind blew around her hair, five tendrils of blackest deed She walked towards a distant shore, her darkness will be free My child she cried, is here today, we meet below the waves My child will welcome me, by Neptune's coral caves