He stands alone by the ocean; the waves wash about his feet,
And he gazes across the water, to where sky and ocean meet,
His eyes are fixed on the past, on things at once distant and near,
And two pearls lie pale on his open palm, like a pair of silvery tears.
His eyes see the bloodshed, the death that they caused,
So many ones killed, and so many things lost,
Yet nobody knows what dark magic hold these,
The Oceaneyes, pulled from the depths of the seas.

Kings fought for these gems of the ocean; their magic was all they knew,
And death by death they would win them, and then in their turn fall too,
Peasants too were struck with the madness, and fellow or king they would kill
For the wondrously beautiful Oceaneyes, that had robbed them of mind and will.
And so the two went, sowing fire and death,
Their ownership fought to the very last breath,
Till the ownership fell to another one; he
Who now holds the Oceaneyes, pulled from the seas.

He gazes down at the twin pearls; a loathing swells in his heart,
Hate for the beautiful Oceaneyes, that have torn all these lives apart,
And he lets them slip out through his fingers, back whence they came with a flash,
Silence prevades for a moment...and then the spell breaks with the splash.
Alone, he stands on the tide-washed beach,
As the salty waves carry them out beyond reach,
Far down, where their magic cannot be seen,
Sink the Oceaneyes, back to the depths of the seas.