Northward Bound

Dreams and such

Northward Bound

 

Golden flames bound to my chest
Singing fierce and mighty psalms,
I sailed past pillars standing tall
On ancient fears and qualms.
My hands took heed of brutal winds,
Held fast through evening's roar.
And still I live in hope to find
My fortune’s hand once more.

To lovers young and old I turned
And gazed with jealousy;
Raised toasts to their immortal health
With tears of misery!
My maiden’s lips I longed to kiss,
Her heart I’d long adore.
So still I live in hope to find
My fortune’s hand once more.

 

But as I dreamed, the critics screamed
Their lies of black and white;
Raised guns and hammers to the stars
Of my once gentle night.
So seasons turn, the prophets burn,
Tragedies rain and pour.
Yet still I live in hope to find
My fortune’s hand once more.

 

Through stormy weather, and the like,
I sailed alone.  I dreamed
Romantic sights of northern seas;
My passion soon redeemed.
When poets shake from winter's aches
And howling winds do roar,
Again I'll sail in hope to find
My fortune’s hand once more.