I was a temporary guest,
the odd one out in a sorrow ridden manifest
of a ship in barren state, in desperate need of its late
and sunken, not forgotten, captain. He who once led

the journey to a deep below,
the only one who could bestow
me with the honor of which no more has to be said.

For everyone around and afar knew the man to be some kind
of genius, carrying a heart for treasure and a broken, humble mind
without a limit to its measure.

He passed away in fire which is obviously dire for a man involved with sea,
a man so passionately desiring of sailing waves ineffably steep, fell to his knee
for a sort of knowledge, now eternally asleep.

He shaped me, he formed, he created as I waited
to embark on the impossible, yet inevitable, if I may,
a trip to tomorrow’s yesterday.