The sea between the horizon and the offshore is just a blank score, a space for
the indiscriminate roles to be defined,though we are inclined
to abstain from the lines, we flow in the whorl, the insignificant curls
towards light
And yet we cannot help but fight, grounding flight.. snagged by the branches, we flee into the darker night..
And when the moon rises up, two faced, with too much four-sight, we'll soon swallow our souls, to the offing's delight.
Offing: The sea between the horizon and the offshore.
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