Reflecting back in blur
Images with a recently forgotten destination
Sillouettes who once knew, but no more
What briefly seemed like pure light, to their eyes
Reciting with passion what was written in stone
Missed the signs to their own chisel
Thought they could already see Ithaca through the glass
Excited they were, although they'd heard it was of no importance
Sailing steady towards the future
Stumbling, but not looking back
Time has come that they can only wonder
How enchantingly those creatures could have ever sung?