He Who Fights Monsters

I won’t survive this dark night’s lunar sea.
Waves crash against the fortress of my mind.
An endless ebb and flow of misery
Has seeped into the Labyrinth I designed.

No atlas, compass, sextant can give aid
In evil vaults where stars are scared to shine.
My tears and screams, once birthed, so quickly fade—
To drown with hope beyond the high-tide line.

I’ve raced before a tempest wind so long,
My hull is breached beyond my skill to caulk.
No dawn for me, I chase a siren’s song
To straits so dire that all but monsters balk.

On feathered wings of wax at last I see—
There is no abyss but the one in me.

Ryan Stone