Dripping Ink

Sometimes I take a boat way out to the sea of ink.

The rolling, washing waves make me have to stop and think.

Sometimes I wish I could reach out and gaze into your eyes.

Into consideration: more emotions, I dispise?

Like a surge of power, my mind is now complete.

Is there just a single scrap of knowlodge left in this place to eat?

Sometimes I feel as if I am the only single light.

You can't read the words, it is now dark, it is now night.

And now I want the words to go away so I can sleep.

I think I am invisible.

You are not me.