The migrants were tossed into one another upon a boat that screamed of desperation and nothing to lose. Peeling paint upon the deck and the tears of children. Water, too much yet begged for. Minutes made of hours. Leaving everything and nothing promised. Regret loomed like a tidal wave. Eyes grasped for the distant shore.
Tossed into the ocean like anchors. Salt and treasures dropped to flail. Knowing nightmares were worst for mothers. All tomorrows would be monochrome. Pulled and slapped by daylight where the air tasted like knives.
Dragged unwillingly to that once longed for shore. She who once had been made of courage had become Lot's wife today.
Wordless women wet and weary herded like sheep to white tents to age.
Dreams were poison, asylum wilted. Ghosts still breathing.
Nothing left to reach for.
Prisoners of being.
Sent back.
Forever.
Lost.
