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Upon The Strand

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Next to the strand, upon the tortured shore,
I wept the tears of wretchedness once more.

His faithlessness had me bereft and torn,
While wavering be-chilled beside a bourn.

A wistful face was drawing him away,
She did not care that he was drawn astray.

Delighting in seduction and deceit
Her deft destructive power was complete.

My lot was such that life felt drear and dour
With nothing left me in this fated hour.

The skies spilled out their frigid, spiteful tears
To match my mournful cries to heedless ears.

It may be always thus to those who live
To be quite indiscrete, completely give.

Our hearts are shattered by the surging tides
Of pounding, feckless lies that cheating hides.

To keep on trying, seeking love and bliss
Feels reckless when it often goes amiss.

But hope springs from a soul that sings and flies,
To ever search the world and scan the skies.

The best of times will surely come once more,
So dry your tortured tears and leave this shore.

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