An Empty Vessle, or a Broken Sea

[Lloyd E Dixon]

An Empty Vessel, or Broken Sea?

How was I to know,
of all the faces
your's would be misplaced
in a terror show,
How could I had thought,
of walking away
Is the same as letting go,
Wasn't how I was taught,
How tough the folds,
become now that
The distance isn't as distant,
When I knew I was bold,
How comparable,
the shores of lands
Harbors once grand
And plentiful,
How their ports dry one season,
And became a dream
of man's greater comprise,
And broken comprehenions,
But if their was one thing,
They would say,
And we knew it,
We could have saved the day.
Now the tide is of their illusion,
And so the ship's,
And so the man.
And we, too.