Passages

I am but lost on this sinking ship,Oblivion beckons my way,Fingertips hold to the edge of a life,Unknown to the friends that I pray.

Whirling winds will pierce my route,Acute and so sweet in my need,A mixture of drug and a loneliness,The question to where will it lead,

So much to give, yet none to know,Freedom to all who defy,The same that made me what I am,Cursing me where I lie.

What will you do when you're old and grey,When ravaging years have peeled away,Your glamour, your style, your arrogant stride,And all the illusions of ego and pride?

What will you do when you're old and grey,Worshipping the icons of an earlier day;The strength, the vitality, the invincible lie,That immortal youth shall ever belie?

What will you do when you're old and grey,As your body crumbles and your thoughts decay;As your ambitions, your goals, the gods you prized,Are weathered and beaten, and cruelly capsized?

And what will you do when you're old and grey,When spectre of grave steals the sun's warming rays;And you ponder your death with sardonic delight,Clutching at dreams of Youth's hollow flight?

Change is where I dream,Permanence where I reside,Mystery but security, the enduring theme,In the maelstrom of the tide.

In the vistas of memories cast,Where futures are forsaken,Imagine the routes of innumerable paths,And conjure the ones not taken.

Master and servant,I bow and defy you,Nightmares and dreams,I love and revile you.

Master and servant,The depth and euphoria,It empties and fills,The hollow and the gloria.

Overdose and comatose,Addiction of screen,Of heaven and hell,And rage and machine.