The stretch of time has been visible
Though unfathomable
There has been so much in words
But incomprehensible
And as the whole city is observed
There is a hope beheld
And though there are only angsts
There will be a light upheld
You tell me, 'My fingers are ten'
I ask, so what is it for
I ask you, is there anything you live for
You say, 'My hours are consumed'
There is a heavy and empty banter above
There is thirst and hunger around
There is so much wisdom hanging on paper
Nothing is done to thine wisdom's vapor
One day you will wake up and say
'I have so much words and my fingers are not bent'
And as you look around the steady high tides
Mist will cover the opening of your eyes
