Nothing compares
Nothing to lose
Nothing to gain
Thoughts of blues
Like a free bird
Some chord of an old guitar
Strikes the time
Like an old grandfather clock
I move on a dock
Of life
Where waters of the drenched
Solitude sips in the board of survival
My arrival is a bond with waters and
Glorious seclusion which is shining in the water of pure abstinence
And I find myself flowing at least.