The Black Tides of Love

Weary should be thee
Of tides with enticing beauty…
For beyond that which thee could spy,
An eternally darkening abyss wouldst lie.
Blackened blood of her prey,
Where thy sickly body wouldst lay.
And as they spirits wouldst pour from her mouth
The bloody ocean wouldst flow so south,
So quickly she should take thee with her sweet ecstasy,
And yet, so hasty she is to confer thee, her deathly malady.
Tides flowing black now…
At a time they flowed a beautiful blue…but how?
Something O’ so callous,
Must’ve already had this potential malice…
As a single blackrose floats amongst their shore,
I wonder about them…and why a dark cloak they then wore…