THE DIRECTIONLESS OATH

The map says North. My feet say East. The log post

bends in shame. I lift the weight until my bones forget their given

name. I run for days through forests that the charts declare ain't there.

But every muscle learns the route to standing right there. So I'll cut

the mountain, cut the sea, cut the bird that's my deep pain.

A demon's got his swords or a single blade's promise, it's all the

same. My navigation's broken but my loyalty has GPS. To put that

straw hat on the throne, my one and only yes. Yo-ho-ho!