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The morning star has long since gone |
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The sun is high in the sky |
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Shadowless a figure stands |
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Stranded on |
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Venus sands |
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Up in the blue and circling |
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The seabirds watch and wait |
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For movement of a certain kind |
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Down on their dinner plate |
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Where children played a flower lays |
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Pulled and torn up by its roots |
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And where it stood, the empty space just screams... |
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Down on the flats, baby turtles race |
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For safety of the big deep |
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And white caps come crashing in |
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Indifferent to tender flesh |
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Shriek of attack, then moving in |
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A raucous clash, a gourmet din |
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Of cruel gull beaks |
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And tearing skin... screaming |
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Lit by the evening star at |
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Venus sands |
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Against a blood orange sky |
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There's a shadow of a figure prone |
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Abandoned and all alone |
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Venus sands |
