It's all Greek...

I've always enjoyed reading about the ancient Greek's; their philosophy, their epics, their pantheism. Excuse the pun of the title, for it's a cliche of a phrase, but I'm incredibly tired, and the following poem relies heavily on Greek mythos- a little touch of the Odyssey within it, about finding yourself in a place where you feel like you don't speak the language of those around you. So you see, I've always admired their language, but sadly, I've never understood it.

There are waves that rise between us
Rise and fall, crashing with tremors
that shake the rocks from the surface
of the Earth.
Through these waves I try to steer
like a helmsman of the ancient Greek
tied to mast, bound and deafened
and made blind by the spray of the sea
and the descent of the night.
I rely on my logic; my lexicon
and find myself awake in a world
of curious hieroglyphs
upon a shore of a strange people
whose language I do not speak.
I am kept apart, as if a leper,
and taken in for my sensibilities.
I sleep outside, under the stars, and dream
of my life, my love, my family
and my home-
wherever it may be.