Category: Writers Block
Blessed are they, who walk beneath the gray, upon the eastern shore.
Where the stirring seas lap endlessly, and hold tales of forgotten lore.
But alass, with time bound to pass, and the skies destined to open her withering eye,
The kindred tenticles of the water's edge will flow only for a while.
Her misty drops have touched so many souls, both man and animal alike.
She has taken and saved lives, her judgements have been unenvious.
With winter's chill close at hand, it is time for her lifeline to turn inward and land.
Blessed are they who rest beneath the gray, upon the eastern shore.
For they will find peace upon her breast, and tales of forgotten lore.
Forevermore.
I like it.