O’ moving dust pursuest of the frozen sun

Predator of prey till left is none


O’ laborer of night and day, your effort in vain

For life was planned not bliss but pain


O’ digger of graves, ready art thou for all

But who will dig the grave in which ye must fall


O’ the ungrown legend, you fear the unseen day

Then fear more for it means tis’ the right way


O’ budding rose, thou sleepest in full content and glee

And wish that these brighter days would never flee


O’ scriber of these words for once let me be

For I must show ye the path not out but in thee