A lonely traveller on the silent sea,
Travels in hope to be free,
From the wretched woes of his mirthless life,
No affairs of wisdom or love ever,
Came across in face or disguise.
He sails aloft a merry boat,
Yet alone, in search of that place,
Where there is that love that chokes his throat.
In the moonlight, aghast,
He reached a land, on black sand it dwelled,
Where stood a damsel, a shrouded figure,
Closer looked the eye, beautiful as hell.
She casts a glance so tender and sublime,
That turned him besotted, all through time.
Her devilish charms worked magic throughout,
That he forgot about his strife,
Of what he was made, what he was about.
He cured himself of that terrible disease,
World calls it loneliness and solitude,
By just hearing her voice, he did it with ease.
By time again coursing, he was smitten to the core,
He forgot the mark, of that curse he wore.
Sand shifted within his feet,
Departing was the beach, the moon and so was she.
She went afar with a crooked smile,
Taking the land with all its glory,
With closed eyes, to the sky he asked
Was it truly love, or was it her guile?
He opens his eyes and find himself again,
In those lonely quarters, those same faces,
Same thoughts and the same pain.
His eyes glistens, heart skips a beat,
On the thought of her,
If her he could again see.
Were those moments a reality of his mind?
Or were those times a dream divine?
Literary Expeditions 