Adrift

Our ship has entered stormy waters
the currents are extreme
the deep dark blue is waiting
to swallow ship and men alike
the sailors are divided
the captain is gone
the winds are tearing us apart
from the South they seek to melt
the hardened hearts, the hatred felt
from the North and the East
they whirl us into a dervish dance
we twist and twirl, spinning
reaching out
palm to palm, a sign of peace
a Western wind, icy cold
blows in between our Libyan hands.
For us no landing on warm sands-
no road to safety, no map to home

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