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The Map Thief

A shadow passed close by my grave,
Stopped and covered my stone,
Blocking the long forgotten warmth,
Of the sun upon these bones.

It lingered longer than the clouds,
That cast their silhouettes,
As they race across this field of stone,
Where dreams drown in regret.

A finger traced the chiseled words,
Written there in gold leaf,
Of a life once lived above the ground,
My life as a map thief.

“He sailed the antipodes of the mind,
Where monsters lurk in the deep,
He tracked them and mapped them,
Into the abyss; this place where he now sleeps.

He felt himself a castaway,
Stranded and alone,
We wait and stay our hearts with love,
For him to sail home.”

I’d never lost my way though,
I stole maps to search my soul,
Then charted the treacherous waters of madness,
A wholly worthwhile goal.

But having gone so very far,
Beyond the limits of my maps,
I could no longer read the stars,
And I made a few mishaps.

And now you stand above the ground,
Yes, I know just who you are,
Oh I regret the love I left behind,
And my soul carries the scar.

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