whispering in a long-forgotten tongue,
its melody beckoning me to the rocks
where the jagged truth has been disguised
in the clever costume of beauty.
Blinded by the illusion created
by the deafening music of a thousand
mythical voices singing one song,
I stride unawares to where my future
awaits, the sweet cacophony of fate
calling me, rushing me with a light heart
towards the unseen shadows of my own death.
What Ulysses yearned to do, I did, bitching
everlastingly at seaborne witches.