Her thoughts devoid of ration
A darkness owned by the need for salty replenishment
Eyes dubious to the prospect of nothingness
The vortex of inner disorientation a whirlpool of measure
Vanishing into the heartthrob nature of emotional slavery
A beat akin to that of the earth
The pulse of the planet’s lifeblood
A vibration, resonating only with that of the ocean
Fear of the abstract nature of thought
Tangibility of the heart an internal master
Removing the filter of incomplete honesty.
Lost to the pulse of the mother
A madness born of the land
Asylum born of the sea.