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Call Me Ishmael

Call me Ishmael, I am the slave to desires and dreams of others and their destinies preclude my own; the seven seas may inoculate or infect with depths of drowning dark my turmoil twisting aimless and alone. Obsessions of their quests for peaceful vindication scars my fraught objectives livid white; Whilst they can settle down in waves of salvage, sleep, serenity, all I can claim is everlasting night. My treasures sink into the beach, waste marooned, bare glimpsed receded gaze, oxidised on salt eroded shores; with no control of my design, call me Ishmael by default, do with me what you will for by default I am, regrettably, yours.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2005




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Book: Shattered Sighs