Return of the Bard

Seems like I lost it some years ago,
not quite sure when.

I was a Lover of Literature,
a Sea Captain on my ship called Sarcasm
sailing through the Shallows and the Deeps

Unsinkable, my hull with a Coat of Teflon
Nothing could stick to me, 
so I travelled lightly.
And at the same time, I found,
it made it hard to hold on to things.

After a while, I caught myself having more things lost
than gained.
More victories denied, than won.
It took a toll.

I hid behind a mask of dull contentment.
Asking for nothing, expecting even less.
Passion became a stranger;
Home is where your Heart is
and I found my home desolate.

I wasn't given much choice
when those wrecking balls came crashing down on my walls.
I lost the will to pray,
instead crying out:
"Can't I get one small victory?
Just a taste of success?"

Finally, an old Friend came back.
She had changed, but then,
so had I.

She wasn't as serious as before,
more willing to joke around,
but she was also a bit colder,
and she wasn't nearly as hopeful
as she used to be.

What she had over me, though,
was the hope of hopefulness.
She was willing to take a chance,
and take a chance on me.

With hesitation, and fear
I take her hand.

Maybe there are still songs to be sung,
words to be written,
stories to be told.

Maybe the time is now
and maybe
the Bard has returned.