I am
like a s
u
nc
k
en sh
ip
trudged up and stuck
in old mud, thick from
recent rains.
wooden and soured,
my boards lay now in wet splinters
and dreams lost
of anywhere to go.
my soul lays here,
ship and all,
unable to release what I thought had been me-
but My soul lives on,
examining the death of my body.
free, and bound, a ghost, as ever.
Will a ship get to return home,
if her Soul is abandoned
and laid
to sea?
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