February 22, 2019
A thousand years it seems to me,
This senseless, constant agony.
Crashing waves of angry sea
Beat down upon my soul.
Who am I, not tame, but wild?
I’m honor-bound, yet still defiled,
Lost in time, forsook, reviled,
Alone and quite unwhole.
I’ve anchor cast, my ship to still,
Yet crashing waves do test my will.
Carry on until, until
This soul of mine finds rest.
Still thunder roars, though not so near.
And distant shores seem slightly clear.
How is it that I should fear,
With hope upon my breast?