Musings on Monday Mornings

Lay down your sweet and weary head, Night is falling, you have come to journey's end. Sleep now, and dream of the ones who came before, They are calling from across a distant shore. Why do you weep? What are these tears upon your face? Soon you will see, all of your fears will pass away. Sail for miles, you're only sleeping. What can you see on the horizon? Why do the white gulls call? Across the sea a pale moon rises, The ships have come to carry you home. And all will turn to silver glass, A light on the water, all souls pass. Hope fades into the world of night, Through shadows falling out of memory and time. Don't say, We have come now to the end. White shores are calling, you and I will meet again And you'll be here in my arms, just sleeping. What can you see on the horizon? Why do the white gulls call? Across the sea a pale moon rises, The ships have come to carry you home. And all will turn to silver glass A light on the water, Grey Ships pass into the west.

We had to go into the depths of purgatory but we retrieved it. The hint of a smile, that damned sunny disposition. Into the clout we rode, deep. Via Stygian we strived, hard against a tide that threatened with every wave to drown us all the way to the deep and murky depths of the Underworld. Covered in black, bruised, we buried deeper into a place where there was no light no hope.......all to retrieve her smile. Like treasure hunters that know not their treasure but continue in the name of a glory, we continued. All around tired souls lured us with their melancholic tunes, their tear-glistening attractive faces. But no! We must not look. Purgatory held its charm. The inferno with its ferocious fire that burned the heart. And then we stumbled upon it. A faint light in the depths of the abyss. A golden hue that lone sparkled, weak like a month trapped in a bell jar. And she fell upon. Stumbled rather, on account of a faint heart and weak legs. It grew--the light--shining harder, stronger...