Urn of magic potion
I fell in an urn of magic potion.
About my locus, I had no notion.
I found myself on a wide, whirly sea.
My boat had holes. From fall, I couldn't flee.
From shores I seemed to have gone far away.
Sea snakes, cone snails, sea urchins, and stingray…
From these wild creatures, how could I escape?
Perplexed, could I nestle and merely gape?
I had spent my life seeking for meaning.
Towards salvation has been my leaning.
I am moving towards life in my sail.
I feel, in my adventure, I won't fail.
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