The tale of the mariner

by joetwo

On hostile foreign shores

Bereft of the familiar or the friendly

No allies, all enemies

Here I find myself

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Sail far I did

Transiting the seas and oceans

Navigating by stars and currents

Finding my way to new worlds

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All kinds of weather I saw at sea

From the most quiet and still

To the horrific violence of the tempest

God’s own power stirring the waters

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The work of man cannot stand such barbarity

Strong wood joins bent to the force of the waves

Sails torn asunder, decks cracking under us

No control, no direction, no hope

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By some miracle I still lived

Clinging to what remains of the mast

Adrift in the great blue

No food nor water, my end simply delayed

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Waking on a beach

Snow white sand under a blazing tropical sun

A copse of trees and a stream, sweet, sweet water

Something unknown stirs in the distance

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Here I find myself

On a hostile foreign shore

Isolated and alone, what stirs comes closer

All I can do is write and wait.

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