The Three

We are but two maiden
ships, slipping by each
other in this heated
storm of passion.

Bound only by that which
is the very fabric of
our most inner self.

Perceived obligations and
that all to familiar
ungiving falseness.

Reaching and clawing out
to each in that vast
vortex of empty darkness,
laid with heavy hearts,
all to willing to leap
into it's depths.

Treading the unknown with
out care, to swim towards
the other in hopes of a
blessed salvation, only to
find that what was left
behind, lays to ahead.

Yet we jump time and again
over and over without any
relevant thoughts.

For what the future holds
has somehow got to be
better than that which
lies in the past.

G. Williams

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