All is bright, they say. All is well, they tell me.
I dream of paradise by a great and grey ocean.
I burn her photograph, but ashes in a green bottle.
I burn the face that haunts me, to put it out of my mind,
My dreams, the morbid fantasies of my drunk and foolish heart.
The ashes in the bottle, a lock of her golden hair, the kiss she gave.
I put them in and seal it with white candle wax, from a candle somehow burning.
I put the treasures and the accursed words I used to woo her on the glass.
I throw the bottle into that great and grey ocean, let those dark waters take her,
And the dreams and wonders and devastating adoration to the end of the world.
I fall to the sand, white and cold and moist, and let that bitter wind end all feeling.
I feel her face fading from my memory, the warmth of her name cooling in my heart.
I feel the gnawing desire, the ambition for companionship thwarted, fretting on the wind.
I feel the freedom of emptiness, the only peace the lack of wanting what cannot ever be.
I feel the angel curse my name, as it salvages that love from the great and grey ocean.