The Sea of Me

Facing the front, and clutching my oar
Confused if this ocean is really a door.
A passage way surging to carry me on
To shores of what…freedom? Or ruin? Or Gun?

I don’t know the way, and yet I’m not lost,
Surrounded by sights never seen and yet crossed
Over, time and again they pressed inside of me
So I got in my boat, and set sail upon me.

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