Wraith you were in my dreams, I felt you;
you had a blue ribbon to twine,
my spirit's ocean drops and truth,
with stars ironically to shine;
I reckon the winds wave in worlds lost;
my glance on known trails to home field,
a chorus of Angels foremost,
sings an ode of my soul's grief.
My Siren spoke; from far beyond,
the heights of glassy domes and stars,
lone wishing spells above a pond,
a fantasy worshiper, behind bars.
Sea spread of vastness, recalls voiced,
- and countless depths, I sail only
on Stygian links, the air's moist
- in dark my Siren's lonely;
from faraway she cares softly,
to touch my lips, singing a note,
an ode of death to my ghostly,
of Acheronian ship and float.
Our steadfast sails to lines of gray,
the years we passed forever shine,
amid the winds her voice betrays
my Siren's song and ends my twine.
© G.V., 11-06-2011 All rights reserved