At the Beach
At dawn I walk the ocean's edge
To find my place along the shore,
The place where I will sit all day
And sculpt my kingdom made of dreams
Until the evening tide returns
And sinks my castle built on sand.
I pull it 'round me like a cloak of null,
This numbing void, this fine despair of mine,
A somber blanket folded thrice to dull
The knife-sharp edges of my dark decline.
I need a nothingness, a time of naught,
A comfort place, an anesthetic buffer,
To suffocate my sense, my every thought,
For if I do not feel, I cannot suffer.
For if I do not try, I cannot fail,
And if I do not care, I'll have no pain,
And if I do not trust, then no betrayal
Can pierce my unprotected heart again.
And if I do not hope, then no defeat
Can mortify me in this sweet retreat.