The Beach - an excerpt
Vivere est militare,
Lord, He, Almighty, ever gentle.
Thou, please, speak with thee.
Tell not the ineffable glory.
Beg thee to sing, to color,
To forbid, crestfallen can't be.
Aid thee, I dither long, too far.
Bury thy tenacious folk
Under the meadows and the beach.
Allow the waves wash this blood,
And may the sand, with anger,
Carry the dead and thy debt.
Copyright © Celio Somerset | Year Posted 2025
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