Landless - Eight Bells

Weakling cannot hold the waves;

The wind, the sand.

Captive, screaming at the sea;

Tremor in my hand.

Landless

Weakling, as your disenchantment grows;

Buds of rage seek the sun.

You are the captive, diminished at the stern;

Hardened is your gaze.

Darkness

Forth

Landless