When sinking ships float out to sea,
No head wind tales of what will be.
Mastered sailing, now set it free.
Weathered Waves crashed, swiftly.
Knots tied down, cut all the strings.
Tides shifted, all while the sirens sing
Maps go uncharted into bewildering.
Will ours tales drown with misery
Commiserate, then follow me.
Gusts have flown, and whispers die.
Their cries capsized by wicked lies.
In fear and loathing, angst, I wait.
Young love, the so called drinking mate.
