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I've watched as the tides rise, it's declined demise
infiltrates the nights eyes, with dim lights, becomes the moon's skies
filtered in the stars hues, on a clear night, three miles wide
sheltered in the break now, the fog rolls then holds tight
I've bent in the wake of the flood, knowing the morning comes in due time
crept in with the dawning of the day, the patterns play tricks to the eyes
hoping that the night holds true, though the brimming dew spells surprise.

I've watched as the days lights beamed right, gleaned tight
seemed right when the days gone, it leaned right
pre flight, and banked left just to ease might
sheltered in the clouds eyes, gave insight, despite
the growing tendency to deny, the birth right
curled its body and hurled wide, faces turned white
hoping that the night holds true, though brimming dew spells a new night.