I’ve tied my heart to glory’s splintered mast
and sailed to the cusp of golden seas, then turned
again, lured by sweet-sung sirens of the past.
My ship is filled with trinkets, treasures amassed
on journeys taken ever since I learned
to tie my heart to glory’s splintered mast.
Yet, old ambitions fade and slip so fast:
three distant lands, a rank once greatly yearned
now cower under sirens of the past.
I could set sail, but oh! What if I crashed
and saw my sea-floor jewels and coins returned?
I’d rather loose my heart from glory’s mast.
Truly, no new voyage can match the last.
Why risk the danger, sail into white-churned
waves, when I could stay with sirens of the past?
I think I’ll drop the wind-burned sails and cast
my anchor here. Forget the dreams I’ve spurned,
untie my heart from glory’s splintered mast,
and follow sweet-sung sirens towards the past.
