The bells of St. Brigit's are calling tonight,
The moonlight is sparkling over the sea,
The stars are shedding their magical light,
And my lover's dead soul is calling to me.
The roses are breathing their passion filled scent,
The soft waves are hissing onto the sand,
The bells chimes are ringing an empty lament,
My lover's drowned hand slips cold into mine.
Down the stone staircase and out to the sand,
Across the storm wreckage to the now quiet sea,
My lover steps slowly away from the land,
A final farewell as he's lost to me.
I wasn't intending to try this, it seemed a bit hard for me, but it has been a good distraction at a tough time. I can't remember for the life of me how to punctuate poetry, so I've just done my best.