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
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