fickle stain

With a penchant for pocket verses,
A swift mind while I'm doin' time;
Something just seems urgent,
Now there's nothing I can try.
I must seek the shores,
Where the life begins to feed.
Struck by chilling chords,
I've fallen back behind the lead.
Purposeless and still in doubt,
I empty thoughts and clear a path;
Focused on a steady route,
To unveil my secret better half.
I must admit I've earned my fault,
And traveled tunnels in the dark;
But when you're the one that's caught,
You'll feel alive from the spark.