A celestial ocean of glistening stars <br />Shimmering over his island <br />Cascading down a blanket of eerie light <br />Down upon the vast expanse of sands <br />Where the flames of the small fire <br />Flicker and crackle and dance <br /> <br />Like an almighty master of his kingdom <br />He shall proudly prance <br />This is no longer Milan <br />Old man <br />But at least the stars will give you a chance <br />As much as they can <br /> <br />Twelve years this fire will burn <br />Twelve tears on his cheek <br />Caused by witches and sprites <br />And devils in the darkness <br />Yearning for hope and forgiveness <br />In a world that continues to turn <br /> <br />And turn <br />It will turn <br />And then churn <br />Up his island <br />Before the ocean lashes on the shores <br />Washing over his fire <br />That he fears will no longer burn <br />Feeling ice cold salt water <br />Seeping right into his pores <br /> <br />Only then will his exile be worth <br />All the pain <br />When the heavenly light of pure angels <br />Can be seen twinkling <br />In the many <br />Upon many <br />Of the tiniest droplets of rain <br /> <br />The blackest clouds of angered thunder <br />Looming over his island <br />Cloaking down a blanket of eerie darkness <br />Down upon a small patch of smouldering ashes <br />Prospero’s body will enter the dark water <br />And go under <br />His spirit asunder<br /><br />Maurice Rowlands<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/prospero-s-fire/
