Drifting

Drifting on my bed of poor
floating far away from shore
I check my motor in the air
a gentle breeze is all I care

It's sheets not made for me to sleep
devoted to the wind they keep
unfurling them to billow fast
I trim them to my clanking mast

A starboard gust attacks my sheet
knocking me right off my feet
I steady her to come about
quickly winching toward my route

I'm tacking hard and keeping course
taking on these winds of force
I blow right through a shipping lane
as slamming wakes destroy the main

It topples over for a crash
and in the water with a splash
I capsize quickly to the sea
saving what is left of me

Drifting on my bed of poor
now perched atop a cabin door
while gentle winds blow through my hair
searching for another fare.

Shallowed gloom

Through the dark
of twisted night
I venture out
of blissful light

I make my way
to tombs of want
never again those
will I haunt

I join my peers
of things not done
resting hopes
to settle some

As blissful light
calls me back
I look to be
amongst the pack

For In this night
I seek my need
to steal no more
this hunter's greed

A sleepless dream
that I endure
of barren wishes
I deplore

I make my peace
in shallowed gloom
and join my wants
inside the tomb