Saturday, August 15, 2009

And he asked faintly as the ship slowly became flooded, "Is it too late to give this ship to second in command?"

For so long the master of my domain,
now only the keeper of what remains.
A broken spirit and a hollow voice,
A quiet soul in a sea of noise.
Tiny hands that can't do well,
Logic swallowed in the Autumn swell.
A weakened mind and nothing more,
a plundered ship on the ocean's floor.
A waterlogged pile left to rot,
a beauty that the world forgot.

No comments: