Beyond My Fatal Shore
I walked the last and hardest mile
full me of good intent
my mind was full of great ideas
and of glorious times spent.
I'd travelled that broad swathe of land
that the ottomans called home
and i never ever turned my eyes
to the glory that was rome.
i'd spent some time in ephesus
before i made my way
towards the delphic oracle
and the words that she would say
she cursed the earth she stood upon
and with hands her hair did tear
she looked at me all strangely
as if i wasn't there
for greece and rome were built upon
a fantasy complete
and as ever shall i wander
her words - like death's own sheet
are wound and tightened round my soul.
i hear her words i've heard them loud
a thousand times or more
each time i take that fateful step
beyond that fatal shore.