The sun whispers hopeful rays of delight.

Glory is patiently awaiting the night.

While shadows creep cautiously,

Stretching their limbs,

Glory is humbly

Nestled within.

An eye closes gently-

Lush lashes descend.

Yet a small tear escapes,

Reflecting a fragile crescent.

Slumber restlessly

Pries away downy covers-

Embracing the solitude,

Which mocks cajoling its lover.

Fathoms grief,

Glory does not speak!

Wilt tomorrow

Leaves

Remorse.

Back to The Ocean Floor