Now asleep on the wine-dark sea, unfurled, alone,

all that I glimpse—the horizon's lofty ragged

ridges, the silhouette of a living,

breathing world in the distance,

quivering like a human heart,

the echo of time pulsing

with light.

I close my eyes

and see in my mind the memories

of towns lit up

like a string of neon pearls

stretched out over the darkness,

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But I have left it all behind, to soar

on the surface of a cobalt-blue

sea, sensing in each wisp of current

the hint of something resembling a direction

like the wish for meaning,

the ghost of purpose

haunting the consciousness

as though we were meant to be something,

anything at all.

Memories lost in the time and the tide,

like the rest of me,

carried out into the infinite,

there to die and dream

eternally.