“To Flight With This”
Memories such those frightful things
so seems it grow we old.
Dreams no longer greater
than those memories now we behold.
'Twere it so 'twould all we'd go
in flurry flock to sea.
Would'st we could such thought direct
as naught but that of long ago.
Sail well then now... ye of similar thought
in search of that which may never be...
such bounty of which we'd ought.
Take we all to flight with this
random cursed thought.
As race we on fastly toward
dreams so dearly bought.
What once we'd surely passed
Again flies top our mast.