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The same song played three different ways

The artists themselves float over emerald waves

From a whitened shore my heart cries for them

An abyss of sorrow, too deep

I loved them with my heart

Part of my soul dies as they drift away

Two strangers to each other, taking the same path

Soul mates of mine, meant to fit

As close as friends could be

The water is so deep it almost drowns

“Come back,” I cry dashing along the beach

The wind whispers, “They are children of mine.”

Clouds swirl over head

And I cannot see their figures in the distance

Mist creeps in on a heavy heart

I close my eyes to the hanging haze,

That claws like a cat

I am alone, on the beach

The sunsets in the west

Prayer hovers in notes of the wind

I collect my things

And I see the prints in the sand

Was this only a dream?

And I see the prints in the sand

I hear laughter in the distance, off the shore

As I head home