Avast there, fellow!

See you not, and hear you not, the burnt sienna siren,

Beckoning from beyond the mast?

 

Nay, for over the scream of soaring seas

And the hulking empire of waves,

How could you?

 

Murky water has since worked its way into the hull

Which you once thought impenetrable,

A marvel of your own design.

 

If you act quickly perhaps you can save some others,

Though we both know of how you will stand there,

Immobile and transfixed, caught up inside yourself.

 

The moon above illuminates that lonely little island beyond the horizon,

Lush and lacking all at once,

Existing solely within your own fractured mind.

 

To you like the siren it calls,

Its intent not inherently malevolent,

Yet still insincere all the same.

 

The roar is louder now,

As guttural gusts guide us first to port,

And then to starboard, on a crash course to civilization.

 

I fear we may end our journey beached upon that island of yours,

Bodies and minds mangled, waterlogged, and thus unrecognizable.

This is a call.

 

Feel now, for nature has left us cold,

Alone and aching for that warmth which was once ours,

Having illuminated that path which we now must navigate ourselves,

As infants trapped in the depths of darkness as life begins to dawn.

 

With those velvet eyes upon us, it is our twilight.

 

Friend, fellow, familiar--

I ask of you what to do,

As time becomes our foe.

Do you abandon ship?