I set out on my personal journey on a tiny sea vessel,
Didn’t skillfully have proper training, but in me I had fortitude and raw muscle.
There were no strong ropes, or iron anchors to hold my ego down anymore,
Glory were my vintage mates left behind that the ocean they once adored.
One trusted talking bird in my ear tagged along as we cowardly set sail,
This dangerous trek had no room for heroes or tools to answer mail.
Food to eat would have to be collected from a sea of plentiful,
And the organ inside my head had no knowledge of its fool.
For 30 days and nights we weathered rough seas,
Feeling the mighty waves of a trillion rowing fleas.
No room to sleep from the pounding of natures force,
Navigational instruments were the stars that set our course.
My lips were dry as they missed the soft touch of a different heart,
My tears were dry from the lack and need of what had me drifting apart.
This captain was lost at sea and only guidance of the brightest star remained,
The risky voyage of desperation had driven a sailor to a grave of the insaned.
A poem about a man that has lost everything and has decided to risk what ever it takes to get his life back together.