What is and what it must be. Knowing.
All yearning so pure still powerless against it.
All the burning. The wanting. The wishing.
The waltzing, the prancing, the lovers dancing
Does delight then ignite fires fueled most true.
But the present call of one grown colder
Has power older than glacial mountains,
And their roaring fire cannot stop its approach.
So silence falls upon ears so anxious
In the booming absence of the roar.
Anguish and understanding clashes and crashes
Upon him, exploding in emerald veracity.
The sun following a path ancient and eternal,
Ponderously creeps towards that horizon most holy;
While frivolity fades and false thoughts pound their
Drums on the march through this long, long night.