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The Madame
Through misted eyes I must confess
My loving hate, my awareness
To set her upon this stone and see
Her ,the statue she was meant to be

When two dark things break away as one
Ships are sunk and ties undone
Pulling her back, pulling her down
Screams are only sounds to me now

I see the ropes slipping, it’s slipping from my hands
I’m still struggling to understand
I saw her silhouette against the sun
It falls away, what have I done

Now, my vision’s clearing on the edges
I press my hand to my head, it’s
Bleeding red streams of salt
I whisper “At last it must be my fault”