A migraine ensues as I feel my bed getting wobbly, I open my eyes to find that water has surrounded me.
An island’s shore a distance away, with no guiding lighthouse for assistance to lay.
Just the sea, some sweet pea, and a single palm tree.
I sit up and sip my herb tea. Thirsty I would be after a snotty Sunday, But a distant cry it be...
“The ship’s sinking captain!”
-queue the choir.
We’re stranded. Hope a forgotten, anxiety a blaze.
“What now?!”
We all stood up looking dazed.
“Batten down the hatches and Bring a Spring Upon ‘er! We’ll get through this storm even if it takes a garner!”
The tides of war, tug and push. Marooned on this bed of nails I felt ambushed.
I rush to the deck without a moments notice.
Ah the beauty of chaos, matched that of an orchid and lotus.
Confusion and shock, worry and fear. Looking around I sensed the end growing near. And so I ran away and cowered with a tear, As I waited for this dark cloud to clear.
But soon enough, time passed and I came to realize, The silence and emptiness that had come to rise.
I took a look around: Ship abandoned, No shore in sight, And Oh how I missed that palm tree, How she kept me up at night...
Loneliness ensued soon after, And I’d come to regret my actions. How I wish I would’ve been taken away by whatever extraction.
And as night time fell, with the claps of thunder, I thought would I ever again see that breathe of wonder.
A bark of passion to lay my worries against, A shade of compassion for whenever I tensed. leaves that fashioned a synthetic chime,
And as I gazed at the storm of your aftertaste, I thought, ****, I’m almost out of time.