For one hundred days, we set sail without as much as one distraction. But it seems that I have sank, because of my past actions, and mistakes that I have made, and attempts to evade all the consequences now being washed away. 

Washed away… They said a storm [bad word] and, “You’ll be washed away!” 

Maybe now I’ll be made clean, while I bathe in your seas as I seek out all the dreams that I once had, of a life already lived, of a gift already given, that was taken from me far too soon. 

Halt! Where is your security now, when you begged for a lifeline, and were thrown an anchor instead? And, has the smallest grain of sand traveled up the hourglass? Or, has the sun ever set in the east for you, or any other man? 

Face forward, swim towards the surface. And look ahead to the life on the new horizon. There was never any way of going back to the old world with any sort of victory, or good tidings of new discovery.  

Fortune never favored me, and the oceans were never big enough to hold all of our iniquities and secrets in its clear, blue embrace. 

I will ascend from the bottom to be born again.