My trouble is I lack conviction.
Is all of this just my invention?
The gifted, afflicted both drown to meet their fate.
It's likely that the night sea doesn't differentiate.
The night sea, a loved one
The swimmers in the ocean.
The darkness, a titan
A pariah of Poseidon.
My trouble is all of this metaphor adjusts.
Its frightening, enlightening, that the night sea is against us.
The night sea is against us.
The night sea, the whispers
And all the other drifters.
Are they victims of the sea ice
Or survivors from a past life?
Still a legacy of horrible dreams.
Steady pattern of the unforeseen.
The vestige of three hurricanes,
The whirl of the weathervanes.
It's the ending, the last time,
The swimmers reach the shoreline.

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