Once trickled down the blessed way, with pain, with repentance the worlds sway;
To the bidding of thee, shall stand until eternities flee;
Pushing fate up the fate – less slope, without amity, without hope;
Never to elope, never to grope, that elusive sin, conscience so allusive within;
Dwindling vigor, a spineless fervor, still bickering, still sneering;
I did not chafe the heavens, I did not revile the Daemon, prodding in the murk, never to find the bygone;
Yet I push fate on that dark slope, a perdition to my what I never could ope;
I fulfill to see it born still, to fulfill but never still be never still;
For love, to cleave be behoove, shall adhere, to no fear;
For I cry not, for I croon not, for these tears are not, for this is the toil I fought;
My debility, the obscurity of my ubiety, still obsequious, still lascivious;
I trek my promenade, to retrace it alas, my sweat my blood all rendered farce;
Could there be no redemption, a reprisal forgiven for damnation;
Yet I push my fate less fate over the fate less slope, undyingly glim at life lope……..
