My croft is at sea,
With my fishes
And my own sense of blasphemy.
Damn you, pale nebula,
My navigation
Is by polyp and medusa.
When the shore's in sight,
I clutch at my throat,
Longing for your tentacles
To suck on my boat.
On my haggard deck awash with rain
I stand, reeling in a net of pain.
Oh maelstrom, spin the fabric of my freedom,
Sunken iceberg, be my palace in the ocean,
The empty stores are where I make my feast,
And albatross, be my herald of peace.
When the shore's in sight,
I clutch at my throat,
Longing for your tentacles
To suck on my boat.
On my haggard deck awash with rain
I stand, reeling in a net of pain.
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