Lost

Often we delude ourselves as being lost
While it requires only a simple nod of the head,
To gaze upon the nightly sky
And between the silent but festive starry scintillisation
To discover Polaris - the North Star --
A model of intransigence and equanimity,
An anchor of virtous composure
That forces the bacchanale of volatile clamour to shameful surrender
And greets the cold smothering hell
With its invincible smile.

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