No path for the angry
no field to run in,
no shield of might.
Slightness is only currancy,
shame and death remote.
no stand,no standing on the stand,
no blessings and no comfort.
Only waves of Falmouth or Onset or of brine.
less the redemption, less the shine or light.
Furthermore the endlessness of drowning...

death beneath waves of trial.

Wants be needs and wish be plan a man would ask for more.
Loss precedes another race, a race been run once more.
Not for me I think these things,
I'd think more just the same,
but in this hour I feel these things and I feel them once again!