175. The wrecker
My love is an incessant stormy ocean
that keeps beating me asunder from my wits,
a shipwrecked fool completely lost at sea
and tossed to madness by its hammering atrocity,
and as a lover you are hopelessly alone
with this too overwhelming darkness of a cruel night,
your feelings drowning you and pulling you straight to perdition.
Yet, you are alive and can still fight
for your survival, even if you as a forlorn lover
are completely on your own and have no mercy to expect
from anyone – a lover lost is worse off than a ruined pauper.
Still there is a plank left of your shipwreck,
one last hope, if even that is the last straw
and even if that only is your own imagination.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
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Written on 2006-09-02 at 16:45
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