this dark crimson tide
that is churning inside
is a storm lost at sea,
or a wave within me?
that peaks as it folds
from recessions untold
and how can it be
that this flux is in me?
it seems quite bizarre;
though I wander afar
it just tosses and turns
deep within where it burns
boiling over and over
without sweet relent
till I'm ever so flummoxed
and thoroughly spent.
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