Island by Kirby

Island

Sometimes I feel like an island to myself.
The Ferdinand Magellen of these parts.
I navigate by following my compass in the dark.
That is how it had always been.
Blind leading the blind.
Willful.
Isn't it obvious?
Surrender was never an option.

Squinted eyes cast over the horizon.
The sudden canals forked like the veins of an old woman's hand.
A choice is made in the new light; to the new light.
A pull at my neck.
A draw of my soul.
Pulling, calling me by another generic name.
This is curiosity and never surrender.

A fear swells like the waves that carry me to Her.
My grip releases and the compass is lost in Her depths.
The skies darken and the perfect storm pulls me in.
I hold my breathe while we ascend.
She crashes into me
I become weathered from the storm.
The light is back
And I find myself on a more forgiving shore.
Surrender
I am an island
She is the sea that surrounds me.