Poetry 

“What Will Come”

by: Androgynous 

What shall come

From this moment?

That is left to fate.

I can read books

On how to sail

Through the worst of gales.

Advice may come,

But will it be enough,

To brave

The tempest

Of confusion?

I will ask,

Advice from

A captain who has faced

The tempest many times,

And has the knowledge

Of the undertow,

And how it has drowned

Many of those 

Who dare to question,

Who dare combat its power.

Tomorrow,

And the next day,

And perhaps thirty more,

I will

Rush through

The waters,

Even knowing

That I might,

Be swept away.

Will I see the single shore,

What shall I choose,

Or rather will it be

Chosen for me?

Or maybe I can find a way

To float peacefully.

Am I to arrive 

At the current low tide?

Or will I arrive,

When all the little trinkets 

Have been covered

By a wave

Of age.

Might I sway,

Back and forth,

Searching for a raft,

Unknowingly swimming

Towards a lifeboat.

I am tugged,

By a current,

I am drawn,

By the siren’s call,

To come and reject,

Or to come 

And to lie

On the shore.

Until that time,

I will,

Keep swimming.

“Sun in a Storm”

by: Androgynous 

A careless hope,

A childish dream,

A loving wish.

I recommend

This remedy

For the heroes,

For the weak,

For the villains,

For the meek.

Yes,

I recommend,

This remedy,

For any

rainy day.