Search me, oh my spirit
at the riptide on my blue veins.
I am at the end of the line
in the deep ocean I lay.
I let the undercurrent shake
my foundations of faith
moored and hidden
a wreckage-
beneath the sea weeds
and coral cloisters
beached with visions.
Murkier as mud clouds,
adrift in liquid abyss
disturbed my soul. I
an abandoned cast-away.
The once mighty crusader
sailed the troubled waters
has now dropped the anchors.
Weighed down, crashed,
beaten and ravaged.
I had forgotten the buoy
afloat in its hope. Angel
caught in the maelstrom
shroud in its mystery
just like a prayer.
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