Questions stream against will,
Always a constant thought.
I don\'t want to ask anymore,
But on this line I am caught.
Enamoured by the feeling,
Hooked by the notion,
Ache for the safety of shore,
Yet left only to solo the ocean.
I see glimpses of dry,
They\'re just lifeless islands.
Call for help I should,
My voice bears nothing but silence.
I have only two queries,
And they both regard She.
Answers may draw looming candor.
\'When will?\'
And simply,
\'Who be?\'