Penelope

Penelope Tell me, Penelope, how long you are going to wait, Read tricks of the ocean while tears are blurring your sight. Letters in bottles come all the way with the gale. Your golden braids interwined with silver ribbons of time Stories are written by those, who usually keep in the shade, And now the author decides which character should stay alive Your pure whole-hearted feelings start loosing initial traits, All those elegant lines are gracefully covering lies You’re not beseeching the sky to save you from downpour or storms, You used to rely on yourself to find your way through the fog, You know that time doesn’t heal, it slightly obtunds the pain, The ocean sings mournful psalms for every torn-apart soul Tell me, Penelope, what meaning your ritual veils: Water and sand to create a restless shape of your tale, All day keep your lantern alight, listen to faraway glees, Welcoming ships with a smile, inwardly screaming in pain I know you can hear me,