My head went sailing,
High above the shore,
Traced the spindrift plying
Crested crashings evermore.
Warmed by the sun
Bouncing off the sea
I fear the passing of every day,
I feel my time being pulled away,
It hardly matters,
Whats my time to theirs or thine?
Moments bubbling in gurgling brine
Green with youth and salty with age,
Spiced learning beneath a bitter rage
Against the motion of it all.
Rage against the notion of the ends distant call,
On turbid oceans no man can forestall
The pull of world's edge and that final fall
Over the last seas ledge, into the maw
Of blackness, questions, and sleep in the raw.