In the shallows of the heart swim armadas of doubts
Sails set proud against crimson storms, bows thrust forward

—

With no stars by which to navigate, no silver moons
No lighthouse lights to steer though uncertain ways

—

Here, where the ocean boils and maelstroms churn
Where sounds come in echoes, words dulled and undetailed

—

Only the strongest sailors find ways to return, to pursue
To retrace unfamiliar caverns and caves

—

To once again breach the clashing lips of indelicate speech
From which they first set sail

—

For ventricular voyages come easily to some, too easily
Whereas explorers are always pre-doomed

—

As uncertainties unravel and hesitation consumes
Whilst pursuing deeper words for Love

—

Thank you for reading

Richard