An ode through the night

Jingles and jollies when Christmas was far,
Carols of a time God forbade each avatar,
A road through the oceans my sailor then led,
Alone through the night,with an ode to the day.

Fingers and fortunes fought to go back,
And sailor of May knew these he won't lack,
For the grace of men who sought to care,
He bore a thought, and thoughts he'd bare.

They would all say something.
They would all think for best.
They would all think they think
And think you don't unless
They find themselves in you
Or a mirror to gaze.
All they'd look for in me,
A pinch of similarity
And what grace, he couldn't guess
When only thyself thee praise.

Hope will breathe with each luring fray
And my sailor razed the seas through weeks in May,
The doldrums and storms, the realms of the blue
The sharks below his raft,fables of fishes too.

Every next emotion twitched a muscle less,
And those that twitched hailed no witness.
A road without trails, my sailor thus traced,
An ode through the night, alone to the day.