

i hear the voices from the shore. they say “come home young man come home.” the chorus grows with every mile and lures me in with hellish tones “one more night” a lover cries. “come back to bed and you’ll find your rest.” “your bed’s a coffin” i reply. “your love’s the doorway that will lead me to my death.” (get back). still her voice is stirring and I can’t drown it out with just a word. “make haste make haste” – i tell myself. “you must learn to let go of her. you must let go.”
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