Where are you going, Winston,
Son of the winterless north?
We have lost count of the summers
Since first you ventured forth.
This track on which we find you,
Unmarked on any map,
Leads travellers to strange places.
Do you not fear mishap?
Countless roads I’ve travelled,
Oh ye of little faith.
Not once have I been bested
By spectre, ghoul or wraith.
My enemies take courage
From wishful thoughts and lies,
But while my star still leads me on,
Its light their spite defies.
The light that leads you, Winston,
That glimmer you call a star,
It comes from quite a different source –
A flame that’s near, not far.
Your guide is called Jacinda,
Of all our hearts the queen.
She is the one you follow,
T’is hers, the lustrous sheen.
Oh cursed is the news you bring me!
For now my folly’s known.
To have thought the baubles of my trade
Were made for me alone.
But now it’s clear the stardust,
Whose lustre led me on,
Was never meant for me to share,
And all my hopes are gone.
Did we not warn you, Winston
Of where your path could end?
Of places strange and unforeseen
To which it might descend?
See how Jacinda hastens?
How quickly her light doth fade?
Grasp you now, in the gathering dark,
The dreadful mistake you’ve made?