I Thoughts swirl as fallen crisp leaves on a blustery day. Heart thumps like drums of war in an ancient wood. Tears ripple as water hit by smooth stone. Body quivers like a fox in frigid cold. Eyes waver as the swaying of wheat in the fields. Self falls like a wave crashing into sand. Soul jerks as a loose sail on a stormy ocean. II What shall become of Troubles and I? We met one fateful day in June, Have been inseparable ever since. E'er shall we part, To the gain of my joy? Or shall we, together, sink to sea-bottom, Only to learn the meaning of air? III On this Journey o'er green hill, And thru' dark forest, I have learned the Secret many search for; That the only joy in this gloomy life, Is the small Gleam of Son, -Coming through the ever-dark clouds, Who rule the sky.- Reminder of my Journey's purpose, For oft' I forget, With help from the shadows surrounding me.