trying to hold onto something stolen is ten times harder than trying to earn it

The Ship of My Words is Sinking

The ship of my words is sinking;
The book of my days, deluged.
My remaining hours are shrinking
With the weight of the cargo, huge.

Vainglorious were the thoughts,
That could fasten me to you;
And wicked are the draughts
One could serve, to keep me true.

But the eye of mind is blinking;
And the storm of self, it brews,
And the heavy coins are sinking,
That the stolen heart eschew.

There's love that's bought with gold,
That's hardly worth the keeping;
Though bound, with bonds to hold
Through grasping hands, is seeping.

And the ship is over loaded;
And the book has a missing page-
When the hours have all eroded,
It's death, who'll pay the wage.