To the Lady at Sea

This afternoon paints a torrid affair
My dog sniffs and barks in lugubrious ardor
The skies are hell bent on a thunderous endeavor
As I am headed to the forests of Sundar

Who unpacks my heart at such a lonely hour
Her tattered top windsails with tidal power
She plods in the yachts of otherworldly sire
Reminiscing a time when the world was fire.