A Day at the Beach: Parts I & II

Part I

The crimson tide
licks the ebony shoreline
with passionless despair.

The bleeding twilight
casts a fading mural on
horizons made of nails.

The iron towers
stretch their limbs to
a choking, blackened, sky,

and I veil my face and cry
as I wait for her to die.

Part II

The crimson tide greets the shore,
regresses back to sea,
regardless of my solemn plea.

I am left abandoned,
with nothing but sand,
black and cold against my hand.

In the company of rusted nails,
protruding from the ground,
a wood devoid of sound.

Into the grime, my fist I pound.