Sails are set the tide has turned
the ship has past the break
time has set a glass to part the present-day
from that which came before.
Now I strain beneath cloying weight
wandering a barren ocean floor

Pressure cracks the creaking stillness
tears, where they seldom streamed before
Scars and stories
lost and shipwrecked on the shore

Where I, unknowing, looked for growth
I found – confused—decay.
Flood waters churning with a golden past
vanished, crumbled, swept away—
empty—void of all that built
the craft that sailed me to that day

I floated there a vacant hulk
becalmed, listing on my side
Amidst echoing fears a trickle comes
a return of trades and tide