ships

10,000 Wails Away

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This life can throw you, in mysterious ways,
Toss you around with the weather, where your ships lie at bay.
Rough oceans meet the shore of your subliminal mind,
Where you’ve laid your trauma to rest and left it behind.


Water belts down from above, onto the graves of your past,
And washes away the tomb that you had formerly built to last.
Exposing thoughts and projections that you kept in disdain,
And flooding them back into reality to cause you pain.


In the wake of the storm, debris scattered amongst the shore,
Collateral to the life that you had once before.
At one time it seemed easy to build a fortress of stone,
But alas, you’ve come to realise that you can’t build it alone.


You meet someone peculiar, and with hope for a chance to reform,
Only to realise that to get to them, you need to venture back through the storm.
Accompanied by violence on your journey through the squall,
The inevitable odd flashes of doubt to where we’ll end up overall.


I know it’s hard to see the good through what seems like an eternal endeavour,
All I can promise you, is that storms don’t last forever.

Listen, her.

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You speak of a wooden heart, and I know that of a story too well, but the splinters break away and tear through my veins to rain blood down on this version of hell.

First born to the sea, floating naively..

Setting sail with notion, this virgin ship sailed it’s first rough ocean, being shoved around by passing waves of emotion..

The sun rapes my eyes upon the horizon..

By the aftermath of the first storm, it took me years to discover that my sails were torn…

See you can take an axe to this heart only to discover it’s cemented seamless core, and no matter the tool you use to pry it open you’ll find yet another wooden door.

And it’s locked.. With a key that’s been lost for years, buried beneath an ocean of tears, from those I’ve lost and those I’ve gained, still causing everyone who climbs aboard, the utmost pain.

With an anchor tied to my feet, embedded so deep without enough room to breathe, I fall under the surface of my own sea, catching each wave as it washes over me.

And I’m tired… and I’m done, what is this life that I’ve succumbed? For which else does it hold if, what is yet to unfold?

I don’t forsee it.. there’s no lighthouse guiding me home, the bulb has long since blown, and now I’m just used to floating alone.

If you happen to find me, be weary of what you drag to shore, because of what seems to be a structured door, is actually rotting at the core.

To ensure your safety, avoid splinters in your heart too, as you’re determined to pursue, this mission of rescue.. When eventually you’ll see, that the waves that once crashed over me, wash us upon this beach.

And as the tide begins to rise, you wipe the sand from my eyes and you come to realise.. where my anchor still resides, pulling me to my demise.