At dawn they rose unfurled the sail to start their journey home.
Abandoned hope of reaching shore with crew, all lives intact.
Oh perilous their journey home did promise to become.
To sail between the isle of woe and island of dismay.
To guard their hearts from demon lust and wardens of decay.
Guarding prisons of darkest thought in mountains of despair.
Their passage guarded only by their thoughts of wayward light.
Forgetting was their only sin, their punishment swiftly wrought.
The mountains root knew no name, but heat did serve to take.
With rivers of fear running through, but thirst not to be slaked.
Hold fast the oars and lock the doors when threading through the eye.
Look outward not for guided way, past anything but sky.
The isles call forth every soul, the wise sail straight on by.
And here this tale does end its thread, the meaning does abide.
Sail but straight and ye shall know the darkness that shall rise.
Gorgeous fingerstyle guitar playing from this Portland, Oregon musician that captures the spirit of American Primitive in dazzling detail. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 30, 2021