Four red lines and a colon float in the dark
and taunt me to make that wish. Make me pray for
a miracle from a God I don't believe.
Is it considered greedy to want a lost
soul to come cross my path as we sail unknown
towards that golden city, Byzantium?
Together we could dance the court of holy
emperor Charlemagne and return the song
of the Lady, doomed to death by the "tirra
lirra" of Sir Lancelot, in the tower
on Shalott. Could the round table be, by us,
You..............................................................Me
reunited and Guenevere's sins be
forgiven? Who else could we depend on to
find our holy grail if King Arthur rests
in Avalon? There is no hope left behind
in Constantinople. There's no knights to greet
us at the docks, just wayward husks of men left
over after a British King's lost crusade.
Why should we keep sailing towards a remnant
of the past? Perhaps it's hope that we lost souls
could collide if only in Istanbul. Now
float three red lines, a colon, and a two: late.
