Setting sail on a beautiful new journey,
From the top of a wave I realize I’m never returning,
The world around me shrinks down to what’s present,
As the wind picks up my adventure will never relent.
Smiling ear to ear as the pain is tucked away,
Forgetting about the past and future rapidly,
Looking into the horizon as the sun climbs its ladder,
Failing to realize I’m all alone in this matter.
As I reach open ocean isolation starts to creep in,
Wondering what I’m doing I take a peak back,
Only to see a city on fire with zombies on the march,
As they devour every living soul the sky starts to turn black.
Land locked by the masses my mind starts to cave in,
I take a new heading and alter the sail,
Deep ocean we’re coming as my patience wears thin,
Picking up speed as we ditch unnecessary cargo.
Cutting through the water our movement becomes largo,
Turning on auto pilot we prepare for the coming adventure,
Working up a sweat near the tropics hoping to not get calenture,
Jumping in the ocean to keep my cool as the sun reaches the ceiling.
Wondering why so many choose to live in the city,
The very thought of my freedom being so lonely,
As my joy slides across the ice it’s stopped by the goalie,
Laughing in my face like an invasion of the soviet army.
At the helm steering my vessel in the direction of freedom,
Noticing a storm on the horizon with a wall of destruction,
As the world flashes before my eyes it starts to close in,
Gathering my gear I prepare for the battle.
As lighting punches the water it starts to erupt,
Waves the size of skyscrapers start to corrupt,
My boat is losing integrity as it takes another upper cut,
Disoriented and confused as the hull takes one to the gut.
As reality sets in I make a run for the emergency raft,
Collecting my supplies I’m left to wonder how it happened,
As water shorts out the power my survival becomes blackened,
Screaming MAYDAY would do nothing but attract local sharks.
Climbing into the raft I take one last look,
As the ocean steals my boat like a thief in the night,
My heart starts to sink as the storm begins to fade,
Knowing now I couldn’t handle the fight.
Dehydration and exhaustion begin to attack,
Wishing I had stuffed one more water bottle into my pack,
Wondering if anyone will find me my soul starts to drown,
Looking back on my life with nothing but a frown.
As the days pass by it gets harder to push on,
Having no control over the current situation,
I spark up my last joint over looking creation,
Praying for a miracle I stare at the sun.
Political correctness is nothing less than thought control!
(Every time you share this post a feminist shaves her head and a statist gets arrested.)