On the dock, staring off into the never-ending,
A vacuous vista that is always in control,
Although clueless, as to what dwells past
The stretch of any eye, I’m struck with fear
Of what approaches, the daunting unknown,
Lay with me, she begs, as my panic is constant
And ever grasping onto the fled concentration,
A tall tale, spread down ear to ear, giving birth
To paranoia, latched onto my erratic map
Riddled with visions concocted outside
The falling gates of insanity, for I wandered
Too far to find what was creeping over
The horizon, in a shadow upon the distant light
Where it perched, for years waiting to crash
Every stable thought,
Every stable beat beneath her chest
That was echoed into my eardrum, distracted,
And stolen out from my slumbering awareness,
No one has captured sight of this fabled myth
Trapped in imagination, projected
Onto the deep wavering chaos, slamming
Against where I stand, held captive by sight
Of a cursed pirate ship, with torn hollow sales,
That, among many other totems, I envisioned
To loosen the grip around my throat
From this fixation, of a story that has haunted
My every breath, about the devil’s advocate,
But how can something nobody has seen
Cripple me, grab tightly around my occulus
Sealing out all that I have turned away from,
For I damned myself, waiting for the end.
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