And once upon a journey made
did I first ride the wind.
Far from the scented verdant glade
with mainsail fully trimmed.

The salted sea is memory,
my days of sail have passed,
where death was bound by destiny
to vacant shores so vast.

I feel a surge of heat within
this aged shell so cold;
a mind and body born to win,
now both have grown too old.

But once abundant youth did thrive
on passion's purest dreams,
where eros was the truth alive
and Sirens sung their themes.

A gift the gods cannot evade
and I shall not rescind,
when once upon a journey made
did I first ride the wind.