Her fin on my pate

Source- Fine Art America

Buried on the cradle,wearing her visage,
She left her corpse,with a message.
To seek upon her Scion,throughout the passage.
Passion for her kindered,sparked as a Mirage.

She slept serenely,her beak open.
My soul sunk,by the torment given.
Desolation dashed with booming threaten,
Fleeting alone,she must have discovered heaven.

Truth was the nightmare,unconciousness broke,
Dashing towards her,I rolled her with a stroke.
Floe turned her body,my tremble evoked.
Fondling her pate,my epoch spoke.

Wishing her to recover,my crevice shattered.
Longing silence created delusion.
Tasting destitute,I murmured
Cohere me with you,as your collaborator.