Among the churning sea a lone boat rocks in the powerful waves,
Helpless but free, it’s destined to sink for it’s small, fragile and old,
With many cracks, and a single larger tear through the hull.
Inside sat a lone traveler with a bottle of rum and water up to his ankles
His coat drenched, his hood up, and his head down in defeat and shame,
The overwhelming chills made him tremble, yet his forehead was hot,
Within he felt a profound empty void, where everything resides.
He looked inside it to find the Three: Despair, Anger and Fear,
They were strong, and he was weak; he succumbed to their power.
His heart was black like the dark sky of the night,
His fear was like the powerful roar of the sky,
His psyche was unsteady like the rocking boat,
Was there no hope?
Thank for reading. So what do you think: is there no hope for the traveler? Is there something, anything, he could do to find a glimmer of hope, or is he forever lost? I’d like to hear what you think so leave a comment below.