Sonnet 3

The rain of summer fills the empty shores
Before a gleam shall hide from sun to earth
In holes of sand that open thirteen doors
A dusty world - the shining of one firth.
I cannot bear to see those bloody eyes
How grovel to the gates of storm. As lord,
My quiver calls for death and weather cries
Like no one cried below the moaning chord...
Perverted are the claws of faith, but still
The water cleans our hands in wisdom. I
Am now against the Eden to fulfill
My destiny that put me here to lie.
Over and over, waves are turning wise
As if the time were glowing through the skies.