Over the Edge II

Off the end of the map the
seas are rough
and dangerous, the skies
sing to the water and
cover the islands with
darkness - there is no
negotiating here, no
map by which to
steer, the end of the
world is nigh - right
over there, and my
compasses are negligent,
austere, even the
stars are different, to
be here is difficult, there
is nothing by which to
navigate, orientation a
dizzy thing, wound
with turning, and even
now I am not sure
there is a way back.
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