Without a Compass
Poem by my fatherA sad story about a happy man, a man whoLoved poems, women, and a calm coreA sad story that crashed against the cliff, crashed onto A cold, indifferent shore
Hey, captain of our fates, let your hand be firmAmidst the torque of time, amidst the murkNavigate our ship through this night, this stormTowards the light that beacons from the dark
Save us from the gulf deep here within usAnd from a smile that bares sharp teethGive us strength to withstand our faults, our weaknessAgainst ourselves give us a shield, a sheath
Oh God! The sunrise comes upon usBut inside—still night, without a compass
Poem by my father, included in
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Published on April 05, 2015 07:28