Unreachably True in Destiny:

Driven (in) to the sea late in the night, the moon hovers over his shoulders like the wolf staring down the helpless deer.  With measured might, the man manages to release and hook the sails.  The strong and sterling pieces of fabric flail, attracting the wind to push towards the man's destiny (destination).  His raw hands shiver when he tears the loaf in two.  The skin dried and cracked on the inside of his hands are worked as the sea salt drifts the air and makes contact with his face and eyes.  Noticing the bread has progressive mold, a bite is still taken.  The owners' of the vessel will be after him shortly, but this is not what concerns his motives. 

Quite a reason of circumstance, his shirt cased with dried blood and a dying man left near the dock, this man's mind remains fixated on the heroine.  Her lush eyes, and the feelings that derive from them, causes his nerves to settle.  About the wooden pallets, the man tries to shield what is uncovered from the aggressively turning winds.  Never able to fully fall into deep sleep, he undesirably thinks of her.  Far and too long ago, feelings of something, if anything present of the time, holds a place in his imagination.  Though comforting sometimes, a drug is what it is.  It only bleeds pain in the end. 

"Forget her and save myself," is the last thing thought of before his body relinquishes all its strength. 

The boat is at a standstill, wedged between the rocks, and the sky fully lit, the man leaves the large boat as the sight of a single ship approaches the coastline.  A bottle of water and a cap taken for necessity, he runs with limited vigor.  The beating of his heart and the rhythm of his feet are out of sync.  For a while he evolutes deep into the wild trees, however, nearing the town he collapses.  In measured timing, as he feels, the point of his chin makes initial contact with the ground.  Paralleled with the surface, and reaching for his jaw, the aching is greatly increased as he continues.  Worrisome, knowing that creatures of the forest may pick up the stint of blood falling from his broken jaw, the man tries griping a vine but fails. 

The wolf is eyeing the deer once again.