[revision] ----------- Shadows drift while I sift through the sand of my fallen land. My castle- just rubble now, left from many battles. Escaped in my incomplete submarine, unclean and rusted- pushing off from the shore. Wished there was more that could be done- reminding me that everything is gone. A sailor- floating, being carried softly by the waves. Saltwater spills over, stinging open wounds- an emotion explodes, rage. Out comes my pen to begin once again. Sliced my arm, before dipping the quill into the bloody ink pot, and left it open- risking infection. Calm reflection kindles a coal, the remainder of my soul; directing the feather- thinking myself a bird. --------------- [original poem] shadows drifting as i sit sifting through the sand of my fallen land my castle, now just rubble, left from numerouse battles escaping in my incomplete submarine unclean and rusted i push off from the shore wishing there was more that could be done reminding me that all is gone a sailor floating carried softly with the waves waters spilling over salt stinging open wounds an emotion explodes rage, out comes my pen and i begin once again i slice my arm, and dip the quill into the fleshy ink pot, leaving it open despite infection my calm reflection kindles the coal, the remainder of my soul, moves the feather thinking myself a bird