you said you’re on a quest
to find the blessed rest
which can make a person feel whole—
and thus ease your burdened soul.
so with a wooden ship but neither compass nor crew,
you set sail across the seven seas in search of what man knew.
you argued with the fates
and begged the gods to open the gates.
you refused to entertain the silence of your mind,
and scorned the stars of the sky for not being aligned.

so with questions unanswered and feet more calloused than before,
you altered your course to a more distant shore.
to a land a man once spoke of where the sun did not exist
and where life flourished when midnight was kissed.
a place where the only music heard was the laughter of souls
and the only thing which existed was man’s fleeting controls.

and though the months have turned into years
and nothing has changed—especially not your fears,
i hope a morning will come when our feet touch the same ground
and the great unknown is at last safe and sound;
i hope a day will come when the only thing forsaken is your desire to roam
and you—you, my dear friend, can finally come home.