By the sea, that's beautiful and blue,
Goes the sun, that's painting all its hue,
Was an old bridge, broken into two,
Left to survive only for the view.
Made of pillars, twenty and a few,
Above the rocks stood, all in the queue.
Never cared, never looked as new,
Drinking salt forever, like its due.
Among them was one, crippled by the clams,
Lost a footing, tumbled in the sands,
Rid of the burden, to drown on any day,
On the way slowly, but not today.
Cursed to be out, no bridge over head,
Pitiful not to be among the herd,
In the cold alone, scared of the winds,
Just to bear those weary noisy birds.
Dark around, waves making eerie sound,
Looked above, a solace may be found,
For the first time in a hundred years,
Got to witness the glory of the stars.
In a lifetime, counted all the waves,
Setting sun and storms, never alike,
Heart was full, warm and pounded in the gaze,
Like a call from home, beyond the space.
Long ago was a feeling this alive,
When the bridge had purpose and pride,
Biding time, now reminiscing the past,
A reminder, nothing ever last.
Then the day dawned, certain doom arrived,
With the waves came, a bed of surf behind,
The moon set, cometh the birds of prey,
And the tide took the old castaway.