Memories of Elysium

Bring me back, boatman
to the golden dream that I escaped;
place me back, back in the amber clear I watch slip between my fingers each morning, clenched fist pushing away the memories from where I was before.

The angels sang to me of salvation,
Gentle harp’s familiar gilded string toned as lyres; celebrating the carress I long fought against, before they claimed the gift of argus and mounted his eyes on their wings.

Bring me back, boatman
That I might visit those you’ve taken.
You’ve gobbled your share and left us to mourn. Betrayed our love for your duty and now they sing in the sweet memories of Elysium that I’m pining for.

Perhaps we can strike a deal,
Nectar or honey – I’ve heard you like coins?
But even more I’ve heard you’re as much at their mercy as us, clawing on Charon’s walls unable to accept the cruelty that no place is so far away as yesterday.

Bring me back, boatman
take me through the ghostly waters;
refresh my memory that I might understand, where I came from and what’s held in my hands. Was I a hero? tell me what did I lose when I climbed from the Styx?

Was this the baptist’s price?
The gate toll to enter the kingdom of clouds.
Washing away the unclean with the rest of me, the Jordan left behind something pure as rain that felt a lie all the same.

So bring me back, boatman.
From Eden to Heaven and the odyssey in between;
There is a hint of fiction that’s stranger than life,
And something in this paradise that’s not in mine.

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