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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required My ship of dreams I build no more I hack to fragments my vain desire To toss like trash and be ignored. Upon my filthy, driftwood fire. To sail the seas and not return My ship sinks in the straight of dire. Its keel has split, its hull to burn Upon my filthy, driftwood fire. To hear the Sirens song too long Uncharted seas with sails which tire. With all my dreams and fancies gone Upon my filthy, driftwood fire. I pondered from my window long And fanned my passion ever higher. I cursed "His" name to sing my song. Upon my filthy, driftwood fire. For fortuned Isles my eyes did cry. My dreams I leave to whom I sire For I am cremated before I die Upon my filthy, driftwood fire. Resurrecting souls my dreams has killed To pull myself from deep quagmire. To warm my heart which time has chilled. Upon my filthy, driftwood fire. It is for sure, not springtime here Shorter days, how bare "His" trees. Looking back pulls eyes to tear For waste and loss of all my greed. Upon my filthy, driftwood fire Now as to turn from what it seems Left to me a works of priers Never to sail my ship of dreams. Upon my filthy, driftwood fire. Heap high this waifs, to be no loss. No wisdom from my follies liar Burn Oh! Burn you holocaust. Upon my filthy, driftwood fire. My sins may perish with my ships. To right my wrongs I now aspire. So let them burn without my kiss. Upon my filthy, driftwood fire. This cord of which I gladly burn Dreams or follies of mud are mire No loss to me and no concern. Upon my filthy, driftwood fire. Stream me toward sweet isles of peace Bright flash and gleam of my attire Shall fall in lour of my decease. Upon my filthy, driftwood fire. When in my grave I take my task Point for my Lord my vain desires In chilling embers and cold gray ash.
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