Devoid

Saturday, August 27, 2005:

A boat dritfs on a sea of lovelessness
No rudder or oars to steer it's course
No map to follow, and no stars to gain a position
Just an endless storm of resistence
As the boat merely drifts
Hopelessly searching for the island of love and happiness
While the tempest tosses the tiny boat
Trying it's persistence
The pilot is running short on rations
And though he is surrounded by the water he so desperately needs
From the sea he cannot drink
And the island is nowhere to be seen
The pilot only hopes that the tempest will send him in the right direction
Or else it will sink, and he will be lost under the waves forever
But as far as the pilot is concerned
It is better to drown than to die of thirst
A thirst that cannot be quenched, by a sea of lovelessness
Chris // 8/27/2005

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