Written by: Tracy Decker

When London came, she dreamt of
days and nights upon the sand,
and promised but to fading breath
the banished ancient land
of fleeting chance and constancy
in all that can not hold,
and never interfering
but to let this life unfold.

When London came, she lay this
broken love upon the sand
and found it rough and callous
to the softness of her hand.
She bent to ancient rhythm
and the sweetest sin was sold;
she traded grace and glory
for a story never told.

When London came, she lay the heart
now dying on the sand
among that breath, its final hope
of careful days it planned.
She swore her love and freedom
to the life she would uphold…
but tender heart, in solitude,
remains forever cold.