Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2014
On a ship back home,
These high sailing seas
Tear this weary soul of mine.
And the deafening roars of the gods,
Ascertained with every thunder that rocks.
With every wind that wails,
My heart longs,
To see the ends of these dark waters.
As the rising tides commune,
Fear drives me away,
*But hope guides me home.
© Meenu Syriac
Meenu Syriac
Written by
Meenu Syriac  India
Please log in to view and add comments on poems