His Heart is the Sea

Trust not the words which were wrought,
By sinners soul,
And ink of blood,

Nor the quill of phoenix feather,

Which,
Burns down reservations as life,
Twirls around the page.

But the endearing,
Misgivings,
And,

Wonderfully woven woes.

Is it,
Misfortune,
Which guides you into,
Gazing upon the luxurious curls,
Like that splendid raven hair,
Beautifully written,
Upon a page,
As if,

It were captured?

Or the seeming glint in the eyes;
From words and passages,
Or the way the lips move,
In the rise and swell,
Of waves on parchment,
A man of the sea,
Writes as he lives,
And lives as he loves.

And that love is whisked away,
The the foam and the spray,
And the horses and maidens,
That coil upon blue banks.

Prey to his albatross eyes,
And hair curls like the kraken's embrace,
My dear,
I release you from his deception,
For aren't we all,
Doomed in the wake of the ocean,
Who snares hearts and souls,
And drowns those who will not yield.

The sea is love,
His love is the sea,
He loves you not,
Darling,
Pray unto me.