The sails have risen

with the sky painted crimson,

and the water reflecting its reign.

I hear singing, I hear it ringing,

pounding on my drums making me

lose my breath.

It is divine, I need it to be mine,

the beauty, the rum, to be set aside

for me.

The voices dull, the waves crash in,

causing me to slip and fall and stumble over

this Sin.

The sails are torn,

tattered and worn,

with salt glistening off its bruises.

I wring myself out to be laid in the sand,

only to hear the song playing for another woman.