all my tomorrows are bruised blind
my charcoal boat moves slowly
on obsidian seas
My heart beat searches Silence loudly,
punctuating the emptiness with even less
Just me and this dumb engine
drifting without the light of moon
I imagine I move forward
I strain each stroke of oar to force my breath
fixed steadfast on that season
this boat that burnt so brightly
Now sinks beneath all nights.
Dear friends, no reason for personal concern here. Through drawn form personal experience this is not current.