Alienation

A solitary existence, diminishing,

Slumped on an isle, woefully eyeing,

The shore whence it all began -

A solo sailing for soul searching,

Respite from all voices but my own.

Meddled by currents, winds, tides,

Deserting light, fate beyond reckoning;

Perpetrators they were in my wrecking,

But innocent they’re in my current plight;

'Tis not for want of favorable winds,

Currents, tides or stars, that I’m marooned;

'Tis for a line that I yearn, to pull me in.

Rowing, swimming, I may brave the gap,

However, the last league will defeat me.

'Tis then when I need a lifeline to hold,

But who stands ashore to cast it?

One fights her own battles, too weary;

One so noble, who’d risk everything,

Knowing well, of lacking strength;

I see them, and would rather stay

Than trouble them to bail me out. Others?

Those who took affront to my sojourn,

Mistaking my respite for desertion,

Proclaiming hence all relations broken?

I’d take my chances here, subjecting

To fate and cunning, my life, than having

To owe a debt to them. For the wound,

Of alienation, though still open, will heal,

Given time, and will; and then this shore,

that shore, what’s the difference!