On this stormy voyage to find love,
At a distant land that I pray to one day be.
My borrowed crew have put my head hazily in the clouds;
Now blurrily, do I see.

One opines that I man the storm.
Some know that I will drown in it.
Another says that I should Jonah for my sins, lest they bomb,
Because a rib re-misplaced might never revisit.

Now, it's my choice that sails my ship,
To maneuver into my fantasy of amorous dreams,
To cultivate their exhortation of how to grip,
Or just quit this voyage and find my lost peace as it seems.

But the tide, even if I am to choose, is too strong,
And icebergs of regret are wrecking my vessel.
Knowing my fate, my hook, line, and sinker have I hung.
Both the sailor and the crew now have a fatal fate they cannot wrestle.


© Sodimu David