I fill the day with little lies
I tell myself until... at last...
I do believe them absolutely true.
A mirror here, a curtain there,
and soon there is no painful past
of true love lost, of primal cries,
of prayers unheard, of hope that dies,
of dark and secret places where
I've hidden things I wish I never knew.

Then comes the night both dark and bright,
black satin pierced by white starlight
where soon I see a full moon rise
that through my chamber curtain streams
a beam that beckons me to dreams.
So I, in bed, let close my eyes
to end this day with weary sighs
and conjure forth in second sight
scenes I have this day seen before,
reformed, recast, replayed once more
with other meanings at their core
upon a stage extemporized,
within a world drawn vaguely and disguised.

Not quite asleep thought clings to me
as faces, places, here and there
begin to dance in darkened air
and waves of whispered words prepare
a spell cast in a Siren's song
that calls across a wine-dark sea.
(Is it to me this song is sung?)
The tides of sleep push me along.
My ship is swift, my oars are long.
Soon ancient prayers flow from my tongue
to consecrate and bless this odyssey.

I seize the helm, the seas are tossed,
my crewmen... (Wait... I know that one,
but why is He now here with me?)
They fear our ship will soon be lost,
our lives forfeit, our fates undone;
but from my neck there hangs a key
of gold and lapis lazuli.
I hold it high above my head.
It stays the storm. It calms the sea.
It proves to each and all of them
the power of this blue-green gem
to guide us safely as we press ahead.

An isle... (I've seen some time before?)
The sand is black along the shore.
Volcanic ash drifts through the sky.
(Is this the place where I will die?)
To leeward, close within our reach,
we sail into a small lagoon,
we ship our oars, our canvas furl,
we set our bow upon a beach
lit only by a brilliant moon
as iridescent as a tropic pearl.

A song upon the wind is borne
and there within it is my name!
Sweet music from a daemon queen
who spins her charms in voice so pure,
beguiles me in a trance that brings no shame.
She calls to me to come to her.
I press my way through ragged thorn.
My body bleeds, my flesh is torn,
I feel the chambers of my heart
ignite with frankincense and myrrh.
Her spell has rent my soul apart
to yield itself in scented flame
to her whom I have not yet even seen.

High on a rock I see her now,
hair floating freely in the air.
Her blue-green eyes direct a stare
that penetrates my soul to see
those countless things I've tried to do,
those endless things I've failed to be.
Upon one arm she rests a lyre.
Her long thin fingers touch the strings.
She sings to me of many things,
reminding me of what I always knew:
That every unfulfilled desire
leaves ashes from its burnt out fire,
sad memories I should sift through,
but my remaining time will not allow.

Her breast of seafoam white is bound
in wreaths of seaweed black and brown
with beads of coral trailing down
to wrap around a slender waist
below which is not woman found.
Instead extends a fish's tail
of blue and green fluorescent scale
that once around a chest is wound.
A chest on which are symbols traced
of pointed stars and crescent moons
inlaid with gems and silver lace.
On every side are ancient runes
inscribed that pearls and rubies grace.
And last, a golden chain is placed
through golden lock and golden hasp
to keep some secret in her azure grasp.

Around my neck she sees my key
of gold and lapis lazuli.
She stops her song and with a hand
she beckons me to climb that rock.
The moon behind her frames her hair
still floating slowly in the air
as I with new-found strength begin
to scramble over stone and thorn
to reach that peak of blessed land
where is forgiven every sin
and where again new hope is born...
but what could be behind that chain and lock?

I stand before her, touch her face,
her skin is smooth and cold as ice.
She looks at me with lidless eyes
forever fixed in wide surprise.
Her blue-green stare shows not a trace
of why she would have called me here,
yet I have battled pain and fear,
have followed music in the air,
have sailed across a wine-dark sea
to reach a shore I know not where.
For all of this there is a price.
From her two lips I'll ask one kiss
to taste the fruit of paradise.
But there is something more than this...
my key of gold and lapis lazuli.

So now we must a bargain strike.
I'll use this talisman I bear
in trade for what she must give me;
and that is just enough to see
her blue-green fish's tail unwind
and pass to me that jeweled chest
to open with my key and find
the object of this mystic quest.
Our hearts and souls now fixed alike,
I turn the lock and with a prayer
the lock drops off, the chain falls free.
I raise the lid and there is found
a book of parchment, leather bound.
Touching it with hesitation,
murmuring an incantation,
she turns the cover carefully
to show me on its foremost page
my face grown gaunt and withered by old age.

"Here it is told," she says to me,
"the path that is your destiny,
the answer to your mystery.
But know this now, before you die,
that there is no Eternity
beyond the moment given you,
that what is done, you can't undo,
that every time you laugh or cry
you take a step that leads you on
through day and night, through dusk and dawn,
until your time has passed and you are gone."

But never had I wished for this
and sank into that deep abyss
of disappointment, guilt and shame
where never is a bottom found
to let a fool like me rebound.
With that, the Siren sadly smiled.
"I owe you now that bargained kiss..."
In tender tones she spoke my name,
the last word she would ever speak,
and gave to me, this aged child,
a kiss placed gently on my cheek.
A kiss that was the charm to break
the spell and cast me back to day -- awake.

Again I hear those primal cries
and whisperings of what may be.
I want to stop my ears and eyes
from that I would not see or hear,
for this is when I should begin
to craft my small deceits again,
deny what is my history,
not let reality appear --
but now I know there's more to learn
if I can once again return
to sail the seascape of my dreams,
where nothing is quite what it seems,
and Sirens tell me truths that silence lies.