The mainsail has lost its promise
While the mizzen flounders about the mast
As the helm’s pointing is in miscast
By the eyes that are withdrawing into a blank
The mutinous mind betrays a captain’s rank
Subduing judgment to feign an ancillary
Position of uncertain auxiliary
Voice with mutterings that confound and confuse
Words – He was once an intelligent
and sentimental muse
With books and writings that described
The possibilities; the probabilities that ascribed
A poetic destiny – now, they have become a prison
How strange that he no longer calls nor listens
As the air and the seas share a calmness
That pervades deep into the ship’s bilge with a stillness
A oneness; a singularity; a beautiful blackness
What is a lifetime but measured darkness
Interrupted by the specs of light
Between each passing day and night
Until time claims its final fare.
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