Thrash

The great pale was
when the sky met a moment
where a boat did not sway
and the sun was veiled by
fog, coloring in ocean breath.
The water reflected the chill there,
and in it, vast emptiness
to an atmosphere settled,
Save gaze of a Sad Shepard and its boat.
It forces an inarticulate moan
Unto her Whildering Whirls
and the world about it
Was Waiting to be Disturbed.

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