Though dread and worry try to tie me down,
The spirits of a life not wholly lived,
I cannot let them keep me in the warmth
And shadow of a false security.
If I can navigate this ailing ship
Past sirens who would lure me back to sleep,
With velvet lies and words that drip like gold,
Then life can bloom once more, the day is won.
Sailing ever forward without compass,
In hopes of some horizon envisaged,
Still armed with faith and hope, but nothing more,
I leave it in God’s hands to guide me home.
But once again, India ink spills out,
Dispersing as to suffocate the day.
I retire to pillowy white linens,
Awaiting ardent dreams and clash of dawn.