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Sunset in the Atlantic
  When the sun kisses the sea,
  And it’s golden hands
  Lick the tips of calming waves.
  And seaweed leaves
  Are grape vines
  On the salty ocean surface.
  When night falls on the remnants
  Of ships wrecked,
  That carried tea and wine,
  And tradesmen of the highest class
  Shot down by enemy brigs.
  Waves that ended both
  And spilt wine red into the blue.
  Fate in nature’s hands at last.
  When those burning lips connect
  To the glass rim chalice, and
  Crimson reflections peek through shadows,
  Do the waters turn to bloodwine?

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