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    Gabu by Carlos Angeles

    The battering restlessness of the sea
    Insists a tidal fury upon the beach
    At Gabu, and its pure consistency
    Havocs the wasteland hard within its reach.

    Brutal the daylong bashing of its heart
    Against the seascape where, for miles around,
    Farther than sight itself, the rock-stones part
    And drop into the elemental wound.

    The waste of centuries is grey and dead
    And neutral where the sea has beached its brine,
    Where the spilt salt of its heart lies spread
    Among the dark habiliments of Time.

    The vital splendor misses. For here, here
    At Gabu where the ageless tide recurs
    All things forfeited are most loved and dear.
    It is the sea pursues a habit of shores.

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