Singing whales.

This ship has sailed in the dark.
I can't hear it anymore
and I'm tired of reading fantastical maps
which will fade away
anyway
I'm stuck in a fishing net
of long-stemmed trees
and red roses,
I'm following singing whales.
Maybe it's just my reflection
under a holey sky
or the echo of my words
tearing this piece of paper apart,
begging for answers.
Maybe they're singing to me.
You may be the lighthouse,
I'll just be there.

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