Drifting on a sea of meaninglessness, my compass points
To places where the water ends and is ruled by the shore
Alone and blown by the wind of change
Sometimes closer and sometimes further

Wishing often for a storm or a calm, but ever moderate the waves remain
Rocking my boat just enough to make me queazy
Sick that comes not from the rocking but from the sameness
I pray, yet know I not to whom I fear

Praying for a dove, I sometimes see
but tire even of doves that bring no beach
as I poke holes in my own boat
Why do I do that? So I can busy myself bailing water
to pass the time away today

As I float on endless sea,
Who, O who will answer me,
The tides of time relentlessly
As I drift to eternity

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