Simon Robinson is a third year English Literature student.
She that softly lies in slumber,
And often cries in the crashing of great stones,
Now sighs in retreat, as I: her captain –
Captive of her serenade; sail to her depths.
Blindly, ‘neath her surface I fell, and
In the blackness, my dreamland found;
Her endless shadows, the lost mysteries of
My life – and in my yearning sank further still.
In my hunger for breath, I breathed life
From her lips, till, in my despair;
Seeking treasure in her darkness
And the secrets that there hid – she,
My wicked mistress was, is now become
My cold coffin’s lid.