I am the wooden vessel
Cleaving the icy current
Caught in perpetual veering
Bereft
Of reason or focus
Entranced
By the inconstant horizon
My purpose arisen
From each mist-shroud daybreak
Nightfall
I diverge
In the ocean’s treacherous pull
Propelled by wind
And the surf’s iron whim
Before the immortal rage
The merciless span of havoc
I’ll relish in my imploring reach
For the shoreline’s
I'll never attain
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