rowing boat and other ships

the waves are hitting off the side of my boat

I’m rowing, with my two arms, powering with

the current and the waves they carry me over

the horizon to the hills, but all passes me by

 

focus on not capsizing, I look out for obstacles,

rocks in the deep murky water, deadly sharp

so I look in front and focus my route, through

this jungle of stalagmites, my arms just go on

 

no rest for the wicked, it’s the speedboat that

I’ve created, and the fuel of it all is the passion

so I must carry on, or I'll sink, into the depth,

where I’ll be lost, forgotten and alone

 

living a life, where I don’t even taste the food I eat,

don’t listen to the music that I hear or play,

don’t see what I’m looking out and it all goes

like a train, past me, and my eyes constantly

flutter like the wings of a butterfly and move like

a pendulum, slowly I sink, with holes in my boat,

and I row and I row, not realising that the water

is entangling my knees, and I keep rowing for…?

 

the sake of a better day, which I know will not

come, blinded by the murk, I sink into the depth

and a final turn towards the sun, with the water once

murky, now clear and blue, just floating, with a 

distorted sunbeam, lighting up the surrounding 

water, empty, with all the sharp rocks gone, 

as if they crumbled all around, into the finest of dusts

 

I try and swim to the top, with heavy arms, burdened

by all the labor, right before my lungs fill up with water

through the sunbeam, the arm of hope grabs and

pulls me into a little boat, with two paddles, and holes

that once were but were filled up now, and she looked

me in the eye and I knew, we were rowing together,

towards the horizon, slowly and steady, in the calm sea