With steathly gate, you walk the shores,
forgotten dreams, and yet you lore...
A siren's call, so deathly sweet,
each broken shell, beneath your feet.
Soft moaning waves, and ghostly calls,
reflect horizons long since past,
an eerie chorus lost at sea,
that wastes in haunting memories.
Dear Angeline, your eyes are black,
that peer with deepest, darkest gaze,
no soul is safe, no life is spared,
you plunge the knife, without a care.
Regis