My chains to the mortal, my anchor and my
weight
Held strong by what I can't see
Is it persuasion or persistence that bind me?

Putrid scent of rotting elm
A hollow vessel, none at helm

Floating, Drifting, Swaying yet
A smoke-filled room, a shallow bet

What more than logs can human be
With not a helmsman in his sea?

For what’s a ship without its crew
But dying wood and foamy slew?

Bound by body
erratic mind

Held in walls
by thoughtless crime

Dissociation
me from mine

Rot induced by sunlight
its gaze a blight on color

Purity in darkness
all and none its mother

Some fortitude lies in the void
for it to stay behind
The lack of light it must endure,
the solitude inside
I think of this and think of me,
a creature mostly bright

When faced with shrouded purity what lies within the light?