There once was a ship lost at sea, tilting and swaying, wilting and fraying, consumed with dubiety.
No matter which direction it turned, a thick, murky haze obscured everything from its gaze; for a heading it yearned.
The sky was starless. A raging storm devoured the light with a thunderous roar, bringing the ship farther from shore.
The compass was useless. Its needle just spun out of control, without a notion, without a goal.
The waves were vicious. They pummeled the ship with a violent rampage, breaking off the mast in their rage.
With no sails to carry it out of the storm, with no compass to guide it to shore, with no stars to follow, the ship dropped its anchor to the depths below.
It let the storm flood the decks with a torrential downpour. It let the waves wash away its cargo. It cast away the compass that failed to provide direction. It cursed the stars that did not shine when they were needed most.
Free to carry out its malice unresisted, the gale unleashed its full fury. The ship groaned as the vicious waves and unrelenting wind tore it apart bit by bit. As it was about to sink to the ocean floor in shards and splinters, a loud creak resonated from within,
“Not like this.”
It strengthened its hull to fight the pummeling waves. With a more determined creak, the anchor was raised. Without a compass, stars, or sails, an idea formed; The ship decided to ride the storm.
Even though it did not have a heading, nor see beyond the storm never-ending, the ship let the current carry it to a destination unknown, awaiting whatever its way was blown.