Art of Cimeries

Once a blue moon,
Withers the boon.
Tides of tomorrow,
Never comes to my howl of sorrow.

The walls of stone,
Share the blood in my bone.
Stand tall and firm – In my way.
Tide that never comes – I’ll never have my say.
Only harsh winds they permit.
Weathering. Withering. Pain. I Submit.

The tide that never foams near.
Save me from the fate I bear.
Pull me in. Swallow and Drown.
Put this mountain to sleep and sound.

Sink me darling – Spare me mercy.
Drown me deep. Deep within you sea.



Poem By Sanjeev 'Cimeries' Retnasingam