Beneath a storm-wrought firmament, my vessel creaks amid a swelling tide
Ghostly false beacons glimmer on the horizon, taunting lanterns in a fog-bound night
Burdens of past anchors and cursed cargo press heavily upon my weathered hull,
Phantom buoys bob in treacherous waters, promising haven yet fading into mist.
I recall ancient cries for deliverance, echoes of souls once cast adrift by vain idols,
In the roaring silence, a divine whisper charts a course towards redemption's shore,
I steer clear of siren lighthouses whose alluring flow masks hidden reefs of despair
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Author:
The Inner Lens (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: April 21st, 2025 21:21
- Comment from author about the poem: This is the account of my decision to take a stand and walk away from a terrible situation. Although I recognized I had to escape, a part of me clung to the unsettling familiarity, making the departure both agonizing and deeply challenging. The past anchors embody the traumas I endured and miraculously survived, each one a heavy chain that held me back. They made every step toward freedom an arduous effort, as the cursed cargo of swift, relentless failures further burdened my voyage. Every setback was a weight on my soul, a vivid reminder of the inner struggle against forces determined to keep me adrift.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 9
Offline)
Comments1
The author's note confirms my suspicions about the metaphor in this poem and its vivid images so well done. Loved the way you painted it and should need not explanation. I think I have been on those seas.
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