What fire is this?
Within your eyes
Like a ball of light
Gently caressing the ominous skies

Are you an omen to match my sign?
Or mere bones to cast in an empty cask?

I only ask because so many heads
Have turned away from this overcast
Just because of your fire

That hopeful passion
Which pulls each sailor slowly on
To survive another night until the dawn

To wonder if this your purposful fire
Is meant to bring us back
To the very thing which we ought to desire

Away from the devouring grave of the sea
To a house made of stone on the inland maybe?

Where are bodies would find the true solace of earth
And just might be at peace far away from the sea

Perhaps Saint Elmo
That is exactly where you wish us to be?