Girl Friday sailed into his world alone
and departed on a blueprinted sliding Scale
having Plundered the captains hearth of graceful
Looting of the flaming daggers and staves with
Dogs Dancing on the chequered decks.
The burning Ship with all day songs
of regrets Falling in parchments embers
without a felled tree left in this the ocean
We now find ourselves certainly cast adrift in
this Mess of love that never lost its meaning
Last found within historic vale and its passionless kiss.