Sitting alone at a deserted shoreline,
Under cold gale from land of nevermore,
Near fire seeking warmth as visions unwind,
By its shadow chasing specters of yore.
How magnificent the Fire's embers are!
Stolen apace by mute winds of fortune,
As they sprawl and vanish like burning stars,
And I feel heat upon my frozen skin.
The flame’s trance draws my soul into a dance,
Beneath a pendant of recant history,
With my shy love I share a pining glance,
And sink in her black eyes of mystery.
The pendant then fades out, and the fire dies,
A lonely tear
drops, and my cold corpse lies