In that little hope, Oh how I blossom!

With loss and despair in my mind for certain,

For right or wrong lies hanging between

Looking for each other’s perfect twin.


How is it that in all these years?

That light is thereafter abandoned and cursed,

Wooing and luring all infinite fail

Dancing with death, while life’s derail.


What remains is still that wink of an eye

Puzzled with joy or drops of cry,

Trepidation in every blink

Dreadful of the ship that sink.