So brings me here
That rings this gong
Of something’s near
…it won’t be long

So swells the throat
And tells the gut
To fell what wrote
the lingered but…

Oh strange days of misery
Of building lives so wandered
To topple high the pile I
Endeavour not to ponder

Oh strange ways of walking life
The stumble forth, the dragging
What feat could saunter down this path
To stop the rest from lagging?

Screams of past come pouring through
And all my world has but to do
Is let it go its pent-up stew
And not to call it down

But round and round the weathers go
And lost and found and lost the knowing
And up and down and up we throw
The ball we think we’re throwing

No answer here have I to bear
No wisdom for to fix
Just the saddened will to share
The madman I have mixed