Poetry

Yo-Ho! (#221)

I fight against the roaring tempest,
Even though letting go to drown would be simplest,

There must be some part of me that refuses to yield,
Like some battle-worn hero with no sword left, only shield,

With sandpaper lips, I am passionately kissed,
By time herself along with peace of mind missed,

To raise the sails and put forth into the spray,
To carry on for yet just one more tiring day,

To ride the waves against the swelling tide,
Through the reefs and shallows, time I bide,

Forlorn and tired, steadfast at the wheel,
Upon the ocean of reality, stark and real.

Any Thoughts?

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.