At drift

I’m drifting and the sea gets rough,
the salt is on my skin; the cold and deep I am within –
an ocean of forgotten demons.

It was different when I still had you.
Sometimes I think I see the light of an island
in my sight, but never I can reach the shore.

I drift once more, the beach behind me.
I know that I can not rely on someone else to find me.
This is my own survival task.

I shall not ask for lifeboats nor for heroes.
I am alone as it must be. I am at drift and free,
no matter where the tide will take me
to be my final destiny.

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Comments on: "At drift" (4)

  1. Elaine said:

    Nice Ina! Thanks for sharing.

  2. This is sort of how I have been feeling lately. Good poem, Ina

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