Loose lips have often sunk ships

from the shores of my observatory

While some wait frantic manifesting their own frustration & worry

Well whats to come of small boats

Solitude and faith have always seemed to keep them afloat

Bearing away from the apparent while steering closer to greatness

Furled away with the rest of those burdens taking note

A captain of my own..what have these galleys steamed today

For fate is only a figment of a Catamaran that’s been cast away.