Serenade of the Sea

Under the dark high flying clouds resides the forgotten home of loneliness. Its gnarly whispers of welcome, cold colder than the sea. Yes on this faint moonlit beach the icy sea laps and sings gently, so gently as if your fingers are running through my hair and the wind is your voice. The wind wails sorrowfully of broken promises and the sea, it breaks and collapses flooding the beach with its salted tears. But nevermind all that, for the sun must rise and the day must follow suite, though, even when I open my eyes I admit that I cannot forget you.