It started with the storms…
crashing waves and lions roar from the heavens…
Mast snaps, and anchors lost…
Wayward on a sea of unending nothingness…
Unsteady on my feet upon the waves…
Gnashing at my bow and hellbent on sinking into my sanity…
The black waters lap up to the ankles threatening to drown me…
Down… ever down… lower cast still into pitches dark as soot…
Wherever and whenever this descent ends, I know not…
…and when this boat sinks… I shall swim… swim onward, swim hard and fast into the vastness of the unknown tomorrow…
Swim until my arms and legs give way, until my stomach cramps and I cannot swim further…
…all we can do when we are rudderless, anchorless… is keep swimming…
– Keep Swimming by Lord Frederick W. Cook