Silken curves embracing your form.
Depths beneath, dark, cold, yet tranquil.
Deceptive in this mirror image,
scorn engulfing entire fleets: so noble, so noble.
As night encroaches upon our time past,
your polished surface, as if in warning, gives way
to venomous ripples of displeasure.
Our concerto swells and
crashes to thunderous applause!
Misty settlements soak in your embrace.
The tempest has passed
and a lone bird streams by on the horizon.