oh night

in tender open sores
i flail arms wide
crescent moon of wayward sons
and reconcile the hope of light.
i set off without a guide
without even the palest star
open a fruitless map
and ponder to where you are.
lost in the tempest mud puddle of life
a shipwreck and cast ashore
grounded forever this vessle becomes
a graveyard of hope to sail nevermore.