Some days, the ripples of thought drown my mind,
She'd wonder, "How much time have I left behind?"
Up and down with the sea, her thoughts would flow,
An endless spiral in the undertow.

Then came the gloomy grey clouds of despair,
The sharp frosted winds of doubt chilled the air.
She wandered and screamed till the fog cleared away,
But shadows of fear always begged her to stay.

One day, she paused, and decided to look high,
The answers she sought were there in the sky.
A celestial guide opened her blinded eyes,
And moonlight pierced through with hope in its rise.

Since then, for hours, the soul and moon would meet,
Conversing like old friends, soft and sweet.
Though the fog returned, so did hope's bright gleam,
And now, The soul and moon are one, bound by a dream.