A/N: One of my better poems. I wrote it for English class. It was completely improvised and took me about 15 minutes.

The Mourn

Bitter thick darkness drops like a cloak,

Listening to the steady ebbing of the waters,

Like the rhythmic drumbeat of life,

The still quiet of night,

Yet creeping closer,

Carrying onward banners of silver through onyx.

The foaming waves lap the boat,

Speaking tenderly of love,

Yet no one knows.

Can anyone know of such warmth in this barren wasteland?

I see my reflection,

A stranger to me,

Yet the closest friend I have.

Sinking indefinitely beneath those ebony waves,

Seeking no return or redemption.

Heaven hath spat him out!

Unsuitable for salvation, tainted with the stain of loneliness,

Endless fountains of youth and the sweet symphony of life,

Paint my soul,

It's not enough for redemption.

The water surrounds my very essence, penetrating my soul,

I cry salty tears, as water nymphs do, like the crystal clear of diamonds,

Tears shed of sorrow,

I leave my life behind,

Trailing to find me where no one can return.

Beneath the scent of the spray,

Sent high above to the Almighty's throne,

Yet pleases none,

No, not even those saints,

Those angels whose feathered wings fail to hold me up.

Isolated, alone, drifting aimlessly forever on a sea of glass despair,

Ready to burst at any moment,

Thy eyes won't seek my shattered dreams any more.

Quickly, avert thy gaze,

Do not look upon my shame any more,

I have chosen this path, my fate, my destiny.

Do not tarry, the time has drawn near,

I must leave you to disappear,

In the mist that lingers yonder,

So catch thy breath if you must,

For it might be thy last.