Castaway

A bitter taste known to eyes and lips

Drawn from the song of the widow's kiss

Roses pinned to bare lapels

The sky cries with them

Lost in the midst of a siren's song

Beauty at a glance but sorrow futher down

Ship lost at sea will no longer return to thee

A pyre is lit for those forgotten

Salt soaked waves lap at the shore

A bought of fog where they shone through

Their song is over, said and done

So why do we hear them?

And why do they tell us to run?