Floating

Sometimes the winds stop and my sails fall, then
All I’m left with is the quiet and dark,
No mark of my horizon can I see,
Just me, in this moment drifting alone,
My own compass not able now to guide,
Beside me, loneliness I thought at bay,
Today, it shows its final hand’s not played,
Afraid I might remain out here afloat,
My throat constricts, my hope it does rescind,
In my boat, I can only wait for wind.