The oceans have all fallen.
The siren is now gone.
The sea has long been dried up,
not having taken very long.
The shores are dark and barren,
over horizon, angel has flown,
the bells no more are ringing--
as I hum this song
I AM THE CLANGING CYMBAL--
my philosophy brought to naught.
I'd trade it all for but a piece,
of what she has forgot.
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