The lost love of the ancient shore,
My fairest maiden did adore,
How she praised that pure golden sand,
Seeping through her innocent hand.
She'd often sit and dream with me,
And wishing so the earth could be,
Here upon this virgin terrain,
Her castle and prince could be lain.
But children of men fell in gloom,
One by one, the sand came their tomb.
And swiftly did the ocean tides rise,
The fair Atlantis soon despise,
So none were left but my maiden,
Alone with grief's heavy laden.
For the few left did spy their ships,
To lay 'pon the ocean's harsh lips.
On that island there she now waits,
Waiting for some distant ship to come.
No comments:
Post a Comment