In nomine Patris, et Filli, et Spiritu Sanctis

I think today I’m slowly dying
I sleep all day to keep from crying
my life has stood, a water gun
not dangerous to anyone
in ships that work and ships that play
I’ve shipped my life and days away
to ports unknown, all foreign gloom
just to leave my shell-shocked room
but upon arrival, nothing’s there
no sea to relieve from the still, lonely air
no breathing sigh to restful wake
no gleaming eye or hand to take
I’m washed ashore upon the sand
alone and restless in a seagull’s land,
orange and gray and brown and black
and no lighthouse there to hasten me back
I’ve fallen victim to a world so plain,
so coarse and weary and grim and slain
repulsed by colorless faces, I,
no strength to fight nor will to fly,
will abandon ship upon the rocks
in Latin words my assailant talks.

Alone and fettered in toilless sprain,
from prison to prison I return again.

                                                -Kaitlyn Medina                       [11/13/08]


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