It's Sunset. All the sea is covered by a lunar mist,
Although the distant land seems near.
The clouds thicken, as the salty dunes embrace and twist -
Caressingly, away they steer.
Let the audacious wind disturb the airy sail:
We have no fear of storms and saints,
Between the hidden rocks manoeuvring without fail,
Forgetting our old complaints.The thunder rumbles ruthlessly and sways the sturdy deck -
A portent of misfortune grim.
The lightning's arrow left an incandescent track:
Don't take this darkness for a dream!
Encompassed by the icebound gloom and shreds of silver foam,
Which soars to the stars, like smoke,
We enter murky caves - where myriads of luring sirens roam:
Beware of their mellifluous talk!
Alas, the only beacon of a fragile hope had sunk,
These waters will be our demise!
The wild forget-me-nots entwine my burning lungs:
"In time, life sheds its thin disguise."
The Night. With their amber eyes, the fervent harpies gaze,
Awaiting the horrendous end.
Hold on! Amidst the chaos, we'll mount the towering waves:
Embracing firmly, hand in hand.
Above the broken mast, a thunderbird is cawing briskly:
"Take off! It's time to spread your wings!"
Our life has flashed before our eyes, the moments - meagre, beastly - How evanescently they gleam!
Look, now the brutal current swirls, deluging our vessel:
The helm is captured by the tide!
Don't cry, my dear, you're not alone, for we are still together -
Love will eclipse the ninth wave's height.
Although the rampant ocean unfurled its grim abyss,
We won't disperse without a trace:
The wreckage of our troubled souls the water shall release
Into the long-forgotten bays.
Transfigured by the tempest's rage, we swim to terra firma,
Untarnished by the years forlorn.
As though the sleeping wanderers, awakened by a murmur,
Our eyes behold the sun. It's Dawn!
Hello, lovely stranger! My name is Veronika Sizova, and I am currently studying in Canada.
Since early childhood, I have been mesmerized by the literary art. The words – exquisite, intricately intertwined, sophisticated, magnificently powerful and fragile simultaneously, – remind me of the oceanic waves, and poetry hides in their unfathomable depths.
This place is meant to become a sanctuary for the tortured souls, aflame with a passion for literature.
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