the sailor

[pang of joy]

~
try and try and try again
but nothing fills that hole
the burning ache
to make or to do
it'll never leave your soul

distractions are futile
so stop with the turmoil
your strife is vain at best
because there's nothing more vast
more empty or black
than the longing in your chest

people will knock
your heart will sulk
their hollow remarks ring true
but what they'll never see
is the terror at sea
when the waves have got the blues

so when it's dues are paid
and its edges have frayed
hang your old sailors hat by the door
because next time you feel that pull of abyss
you'd be a fool not to try some more
~