Born of beacon hue
Moral compass mast
Rudder native true
Doubt denying cast
Guided just by light
Shores unseen avail
Charted shapes of night
Wayward wind drift wail
Set on freedom’s course
Come what may allow
Thine own promise kept
Humble held in bow
Far from cluttered land
Human walls divide
Monuments of sand
Steel against the sky
Tossing tides subside
Shuddered sails rest
Anchors weight abide
Wet seam gently nest
– Rondym Kiefe