Ever Livid In The Tide

I have walked out of step with my time these past few years
Or so. No I must not fall out of tune.
The streets of home are walked by the old fears
Of neolithics praying to the moon.

Yeah, right. Yet out of tune the towns do seem to go
As land razed under rising seas till oh
Say can you feel the strangeness of the tides
At dawn, the ebb of mourning on all sides

Of your now little isle, where lions court the soul
Where the wolf skins you, to parade in human pelt.
A sea-changed island amid miles of shoal
That life will little defend. So having felt

The times, I cannot think I do not feel
The preying tonguewaves of unwavering tides,
And lie in ruin in the realms of the real,
With little less than life on all sides.

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