The Tower Above the Sea

I hear the thoughts
Of silence thinking,
I smell the eyes
Of a perfume watching.

Haunting the ghost of my own
Whose whisper laughs in breaths,
Breathing a splendid sadness
So chilling,
Down the neck of a field of a frozen Flowers
Who hath chosen to play, alone
In my own own winters heart.

The taste's so
Familiar,
Bitter,
So wonderfully cold
Makes love to the story of yesterdays song,
Lost to the lust,
Of the memory,
Of the dear raven and swan.

The flame of revenge, tis said
Can often,
warm even the coldest of hearts,
Burning holes,
Beneath the dark.

Even now as I sit watching,
waiting, romancing the shadows
In my tower above the crashing sea
Awaiting fates hands,
To finish the tale,
Penned from ink, then Inked into foul,
Ravished Upon the face of a clock
A dawning tide,
To where the heavenly stars helplesly reside.

Draped in a violent,
Violet blue
So sombrely stopped
of a thirteenth and final hour.

I hear the thoughts of the world
like a dream, fading, falling
As my soul wakes to that sea.