Shipwrecked

A single burnt glove hangs from the island fence,
The burnt dream of one who did not make it by an inch,
The light house shines it's light out toward where I am lost at sea.

The single beacon of hope,
The only source of brightness in the accursed waves,
Like flies we fight to be nearer to the light.

Trails of salt running down my cheeks,
Burning in my eyes.
The water is so cold,
I don't want to survive.

We all feel the need to breakdown and cry,
Fighting the tide to stay alive.
We're caught in the waves of desperate faith,
Fighting to breathe, fighting to leave.

Trying to get to even ground,
Trying not to sink and drown,
We're all dying to somehow be saved,
As the lighthouse light swings.

Praying for solace, a brief sojourn,
We're praying to not feel like this anymore.
Drowning in tears, suffocated by fears,
It's all in my head, I know.
No one else is here.

I cling to the life vest built on my strength,
But I don't know if it can hold this new weight.
It's dragging me down, I'm sinking to the ground.
The rock of my pain put me here,
Bought my sea grave with my fear.

I wrote this poem because I was inspired by the way the way David Roderick used nature and imagery. I attempted to incorporate a similar type of nature and imagery in my own way in this poem as he did in Blue Colonial.