A ship without a captain.
I tread water quietly, lap-ping at my sides
It pushes and pulls me softly...
Calmly I sway in the direction the water calls,
Just as I always have.
Suddenly, the wind turns.
The tide pulls now,
Sucking at my metal rivets,
Tugging me from shore.
It releases me into black current.
A captain without a ship.
I find myself
in the black waters.
Fettered by confusion,
I seek for any buoy, anything that floats
That can save me from this drowning.
My head slips
below the surface.
Black water clogs my lungs.
I spit fire.
I am desperate for a hold as
I thrash about in the murkiness.
My toes desperately search for solid sand,
I tread nothing but dark water;
There is no buoy.
I wonder why the water is so dark in the middle of the day,
And I find myself immersed
In the cast shadow of my own ship.