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 Thar She Goes Under®
No beauty comes from the wreck of the hesperus
for i've been thru a hurricane,
it swept upon my land of bliss
leaving only rough terrain.
What used to stand in stormy sea
and hold on with all its might,
has chosen to no more than flee
all remains is a ghost in white.
No use reaching for a hand
it long since has left go,
remember me on that distant land
that once laughed heartily so.
From the wreckage nothing to find
that is worth a save,
the songs us minstrels sang so far behind
all echo on my grave.
Copyright©   2012
Sally



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