Loose lips have often sunk ships
from the shores of my observatory
While some wait frantic manifesting their own frustration & worry
Well whats to come of small boats
Solitude and faith have always seemed to keep them afloat
Bearing away from the apparent while steering closer to greatness
Furled away with the rest of those burdens taking note
A captain of my own..what have these galleys steamed today
For fate is only a figment of a Catamaran that’s been cast away.