Loneliness is an icy ocean
The mist of tomorrow so dense, enfolding
Obscuring all in random motion
Amid countless waves of life unfolding
My heart is a rotten hulk drifting aimlessly
With gossamer dreams on barren masts, drifting
Cowing to the slapping currents shamelessly
Croaking creaking sounds of timbers shifting
For I am the Flying Dutchman of love,
Untended, glimpsed sometimes in passing,
But one never certain of.
Swiftly cloaked by time's fog massing,
Yes, I am the Flying Dutchman.
Lloyd's long since forgotten
Splintered hulk drifting on,
Gossamer dreams on barren masts rotten.
