Ship of Life

I said to long ship of life, Watch for strife, And the splatter of besmirched blood, Left stark in dry mud. Some will plunder there, Expecting nothing fair, But a wisp of hysteria and despair, That people need beware. If I alone shall fail to rise, Or have opened eyes, Be it dreadful that I may die without grace, Seeing no splendour to embrace. Hard it is to find the joy, As a crick may annoy, Leaving one tormented and grey, With every strain felt I say. And I say more to you, My ship of bamboo: Not brittle, breakable or ever ailing, Yet you're there quite alarming. I cannot dance your quick steps, For they're truly complex, Life there has me bound in chains, Marooned in melancholy pains. I'm rotting from the inside, In that there's no pride, Piece by piece it rips me apart, This life it will tumble in art. If I could just drape my sad life And be rid of its every strife, Saying, I'd create a slick beginning, Bearing no cross of rage willing. This life that I did wreak, It still was unique, Thus I mourn its tragic passing, As I dip a rusk in blue stuffing.