A Writer's Sea

There is red and there is dead
There are some that sailors dread
Though my own, a peaceful tide
Restless thoughts are churned inside

See the water's never blue
Terns and Gulls are absent too
Not all, loves a placid murk
Summons all i need for work

On this vast colossal sea
Worlds i pass and ramble free
Worlds distorted, so grotesque
Need to write this style burlesque

Always when my body's soak
Fervent waters that provoke
Rageful ghosts that's sometimes bane
On this baleful brood of Cain

Sentiments from liquid pure
On an illness, found a cure
Inquiries the waters heed
Makes up my poetic creed

Below the waves, a forged scheme
By someone whose in the dim
Writing truths that raise the steam
Parallel to precious dreams

You can never see below
Clearly all what made me know
Just like now, its hard to guess
What the pen wants to address