Xena

Our ship leaves Trinity Bar, in darkness and green light, to Africa or further far, tell me, tell me daughter, your lips a place of fight, why sail among this slaughter, Bow spit carries your alarm, when bells ring out the night, will we meet our patriarch, like a song across the sea, the Maghreb is within sight its warm embrace holy, when i touch your sweet star, across this shining bite, it warns of useless pillars, eternal hope of semaphore, rose petals of sweet delight, crusted bird cried orators, your eyes a constant flight.