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.