Sweet, bitter solitude,
pleasure and sorrow entwined.
To gaze upon a majestic sea, and yet
to fall short of all its fullness,
as I watch the colors in the distance, sitting here
upon the colorless sand
of a desert island shore.
A glorious sight, a hopeful sight,
one of adventures yet unfulfilled;
And as I stare out at the waves,
I can swim, I cannot swim;
With each new wind, the boats appear
upon the misty horizon,
the crewmen will wave
from the decks of their vessels,
acknowledging me in the distance.
I can move, I cannot move;
My skin grows pale, dry, colorless
as the sand upon this desert island shore.
The night rolls in, and bids the fog
surround me in the darkness of the shade
beneath the palms. I cannot see the horizon;
New hopes sprout like seeds
from the dead ground, confusing my doubts.
My map begins to fade; the path
from where I am to where I want to be
disappears; I can see, I cannot see.
As I sleep, I dread the scorching heat
of the impending sunrise;
the withering leaves as they fall
from their newly sprouted stems.
The nights grow shorter, and I fear
that they may not return,
and my bones will lie, dry and unbroken,
colorless as the sand,
and I will become one with this desert island shore.