The sails in my hand, the winds not so...
pulled into the storm defenseless, not one of my making,
this is not me, I am one of the dead leaves left for raking.
The control of my ship not in these hands anymore...
There was a leash on this dog, now its out to bite,
swept away on this turbulent flight.
are these winds taking me to a destination or my doom...
it has never been a task which now has become,
why all this anger, what have I become.
caught by one, soon swept away by another...
am I but a cloud with no place to be,
am I not on the stage but in the audience just to see...
Give me my sails back! oh winds unknown...
not what I was, not where I was and not how,
am I but a bull bound to a plough...
Another pull, another push, there its gone again...
the storms are here to compete,
there he goes swept away again, this poem is yours to complete....
Commentaires