With ruby-coloured pearls,

  the golden shore allures,

  where before I sought the blind horizon,

  seeking, ever-seeking

  the madness of a new war to fight.

  Yet the sun sets on those days,

  The days of anxious desire

  and the sea turns to molten fire,

  as we tread closer

  to the black,

  yearning, ever-yearning

  for what it is we lack.

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  Sword buried in the sand,

  armour shed upon the strand

  I wander to the edge of the sea

  and let its brine wash over me.

  There is no more to be found

  beyond this golden shore,

  My journey ends, my soul at peace,

  And here I'll stay forevermore

  The heart bleeds, the soul weeps,

  I can go no further west,

  and so, at last,

  and so, at last,

  the restless shall find rest.