Contemplation

Today the Atlantic Ocean coursed through my blinking globes 

Despair was there

Emptiness– a sweet hospitable ally.

“Take the weaved string in streaks of strides

Wear it on the Fan’s neck 

Then lace it to your neck as well” 

I will not!

Chance has set a vow with miracles 

Deeds of the saints will save me.

Oh, myself!

Thousand pins on my soliloquizing shelf 

To make me a Past’s martyr or Future’s heroine.

“Take you to the Ocean’s bed 

Or let the Ocean drink you 

Then split to its core if no one will lay your earth on the earth.”

I will not!

Fluidity’s manifestation has not spanned me 

Or the five will lose their peace and elements will cuddle imbalances.