I’m in pursuit of another ocean;
another plan and another tide.
I yearn for silver ground,
hidden beneath aethereal skies
where every cautious step is murder
upon untainted, unknown soil.
I want to hear the thunder sigh
and see the canopy slouch
as they settle in for the night.
They don’t care who sees;
they superstitious keep their distance
and the rest don’t notice anyways.
They cannot see because they do not wish to.
But my cornucopia of callouses
have caused me to look for another way out.
I’m in pursuit of another ocean;
another plain and another tide.