fingers glide across strings
plucking here and there
stirring up a melody
that starts to fill the air

a voyager rides the waves
bouncing from one place to another
her tale reaching all the ears
of those who didn't smother
her

her story is of those
who were lost, left behind
she's afraid they'll be forgotten
by others, or her mind

her grief gaining strength
shifting up in power
a crescendo soon takes place
but her fate doesn't cower

she stands up on her deck
winds whipping her hair about
as the storms lighting takes hold
of her wheel, her route

then suddenly minor turns to major
a ballad of soft waves rolls in
her ship meets golden sand
and they celebrate with gin

the place is familiar
as she starts to look around
smiling she runs into her loves arms
for the lost is now found

and with that
the plucks of the musician slowly fade off
into the distance

of my mind