The Blue Mistress
He stood on the cliff, overlooking the sea
Warm salty air, stuck on his face
The deep blue looked calm from far away
He saw, as bots went their own way
House on the cliff overlooked its stay
Sturdy and tall, built to withstand
It stopped on its stairs
Seen far from the country fairs
It whispered to him, hair brushed off his face
It’s warm breath, grazed against his neck
He stood there listening to her
It said, the cool of the night is not far
He stepped forward and lurched onward
Into the deep blue that was she
She raged against the cliffs, formed froth and
foam
His body and shell returned back to the stone
The darkness mistook him for someone else
It perched him on the cliff house’s stairs
There was a thud, which the old lady heard
She started down, as the cold night stirred
Her son lay on the stairs, dead and despaired
She cried and flared, this could not be
repaired
The sea had claimed yet one more soul
With calm stupendous grace she furbished her
role
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