Across the oceans and deep blue sea, nothing but emptiness all I could see…
The wind kisses across my cheek, I hear the sound of ropes that creak..
I’m reminded of what I left behind, a town of chaos – a city of crime…
of guns and fire and stabbing wounds, the dusty sun and clouded moon…
Of prisons and shackles – I broke free, on the search to find my glee…
I can’t confess, I can’t complain, my body’s too numb to feel the pain…
A ship of sorts, a broken venture, prepping up for a new adventure…
Air is clean, the scene is vivid. The night is long but the dreams are timid…
“We’re almost there, that’s the hill”, I saw a rock standing still…
A new beginning or a lost chapter? A sitting duck or a wild raptor?
Onwards, upwards and steering ahead, crossing the wretched “isle of dead”…
History are lessons that I hold near, longing a new home by fighting the fear…
Not the same old drama, not the same old drill, no more orders of shoot to kill…
A new world awaits us behind the hill, braving the waves – we’re standing still.
Beautiful! Your poetry describes perspectives in a very interesting way. Makes you think. Excited to read more.
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