The Castle Of Sand

If solemn tears could ever reach the sea
to be watered into freedom's magic,
then surely this pain would evaporate.
With an almighty crack of grave lightning
the heavens silhouette fine-lined remorse,
another cold gift from God to remind
that this soul's clenched in the grip of anguish.

If the sound of departure swallowed time,
would it then be erased from memory
or remain buried within the chill thought?
Breath is heavy with the loss of wisdom,
complacency saturated true love,
only sleep is welcomed onto the shores
where rough shells capture the final goodbye.