The hot noon sun rises up,
And the dry leaves of the season drop,
Cigarette smoke and the smell of tobacco rise,
And the loud honk of the car cries.
Life is dull in the city streets,
But the freshness lies where the ocean and land meet,
Deep deep inside, A hundred miles down,
Where no god or man wear a precious crown.
The ocean has its own melody as most think its cruel,
But if thy know it well, Thy will then know it wear the most precious jewel,
Poseidon himself bows down to the goddess,
As he knows the beauty and the ever lasting brightness.
Oh my Mistress I bow down to thee,
Your brightness, Light or beauty all shall see,
Through the eyes of my words, They shall now believe,
The beauty of something they negatively perceived.