Take To The Sea: Revision Two A desperate man sails through a dark harbor.

Quietly he whispers, take to the sea. His shoulders sink to support a hung head. His body mangled, fallen from defeat. A chipped-paint boat treads the resisting current, emitting a salty-sweet mist that caresses the air and stirs a yearning for the open sea. The entrance to the sea is surrounded by rocks, guardians of the deep to keep out the unwanted, but not him. The protruding rocks wrap around the harbor leading back to the shore, back to his family. Even now, at the edge of his freedom, his family was trying to keep him. Enveloping him with rocks, like outstretched arms, they attempt to trap him. Yet there was nothing left for him along the shore, but a grand house stale with the conversations of frivolous nothings, and the hopeless expectations of a disappointing tomorrow. The man is close. He can taste the free air and, the great abyss that will swallow him but, it wont swallow him. No Not now! This is his chance! But the wind is against him,

and the current is against him, and though he cant he knows he will inevitably again, fail. So the battered boat exhausts a small black cloud as it turns back toward the blood-chained shore.