My Sub: USS Conscience

Cast in iron, set in stone, my thoughts are never left alone. They sail with me and set me free, living in my every bone.

My ship, it sails, its mast prevails, catching headwinds, telling tales. But then my sub sinks down below, and dives through waters, lesser known.

Deep currents are so strong and strict, they flow in ways I can’t predict. My vessel fights to flee its ways; gets lost amidst the clouded haze.

And yet my thoughts stand strong and true. They do not question me or you. Despite the sub that sinks below, there’s no doubt for what doesn’t show.

I sail my ship that floats above. I guide it with my heart, with love. I steer it toward oceans, blue. It navigates to what is true.

So why am I lost in between? Is it due to this submarine? Can I make no more Admiral than what this sub will let me tell?

I need to make it surface now. I need its Captain to know how. Commission it a tribunal, and sort out what things I should know.

My mind must not make mince of thee. I will not let it control me. This sub that floats so down below – I shall tell it where to go.

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