Of Metaphors and Similes

Why do we do, what we do, in the way we do?

Gulping down the sorrow,

On the high wind, I ride and sail

My chariot and my ship,

My winged horses, against the dark head

Of west wind and

The silver mast of my ship in,

The unchartered waters of the end of the world

And here I am.

Almost a rider and nearly a sailor,

with broken chariot, and ship that leaks.

A metaphor in prose,

and like a simile in speech.