The time is coming
fumes are burning
thee last lamps taste
tragedy face blue moons
a fear of temptation
the leaky foundation
bathed in star light
a lasting cruel night
Fatal addiction
a contradiction
cruel and selfish
since fear itself
a lone ship
blown warship
the fire is quiet
a tragic riot
a sailor will call
don’t quit, we’re all in
but they’ll cry their eyes out, if we
sink the lighthouse.
Saint's Muse 