Ocean

Emptiness ensues,
killing every- and all possible moods.

Nothing, but hot, black coffee cups,
though, I'm still, left alone by those- long high ups.

Flowing music, aids to soothe.
When my broken- and damaged body, can barely move.

This fine pen, is my extension.
It's my heart- the beat, with no pretensions.

This is the only saving, smooth grace.
Managing to mark, life's every- little, beautiful trace.

Healing, hopefully, soon to be unfailing.
I can't coexist anymore.
With this, unhealthy- rough sailing.

Stormy waters surround my reality,
unlimited painful currents, must be the utter finality.

Light blue swallow birds, will eventually guide me back,
a safe journey- away from the lovely, and missing lack.