I'll number my kids but I hate giving titles to poems

I see the horizon, but it's just another day
Years more to sail before we find our way
Red skies this morning and rough seas to come
Come now dear lady, this storm will take us home

I locked your photo inside a shell too long
I commissioned too many artists, wrote too many songs
I replaced my compass with a pretty pearl
I traded direction for an imagined girl

And the sun was lost behind the mist
Bright and wet, my face it kissed
And left me bound by irony
High and dry beside the lowest sea

I'm losing sight of the boat, but not yet sure I've stopped sailing
I tighten up my coat and cease my wailing,
"I can't yet decide if youre a siren or a saint, but
Come now journey, come take us home, wicked ways have made me faint"

But home is on the rocky coast and it's hard to find the pier
So we'll crash upon the first rock we find and make an altar for our fear
Sacrifice the darkness and fast for light to come
Though I'm bleeding for another's sins and you've returned to where you're from