Regaining the Compass

February 6, 2010
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Where does my true compass lie?

Ay, wherein what cave does it hide?

My life is knocked off course,
and rotting dead is my horse,
So where does my instrument of guidance
hitch its ride?

Time, it seems, has broken apart at the seams,
and all I’m left with
are hopeful dreams broken.

Oh Compass! Show yourself to me!
I care not where I go!
Send me chillingly North!
Send me blistering South!
Send me wisely East!
Send me dying West!
All directions please me, just urge me go one,
Alas, compass—show thyself true!

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