Followers


He was just another sailor
looking to be a saviour 
His vision to him so clear
His eyes determined, no fear
Crossing borders, frontiers
In his ship he’s got no peers
Bright stars the ones to help steer
Him into where he’ll endure

The stress and troubles willfully
Sacrificing himself came naturally
Desires to him was secondary
To his own will to be free
Of hedonistic necessity
Of his ego, so surely
Nothing could get him privy
To matters that were worldly

Alas the inevitable siren
Appears to put a hyphen
Mid-word as they do
Mid-speech why don’t you?

He veers his ship off course
Skewing his path by force
To no fault of his mistress
She was much too flawless

His ever solemn face
Finally carved more than a trace
Of happiness, he’s overjoyed
And now, level with the id of Freud.



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