Wings
Spread abreast,
The gull departs,
My last friend,
Leaving me.
How could I blame
Such a creature?
It was only natural,
I thought.
In an act of desperation,
Between staying,
And leaving our predicament,
It was only natural.
Despite being
a creature,
Of such mercurial tendencies,
He still loved me,
Didn't he?
Perhaps,
There was a faint chance,
A glimmer of doubt,
Entering my burning mind,
Without heed.
He loved me no more,
That indeed,
He would never return.
Yet I had no time to ponder such a thought,
For the boat had sunken,
As had I.