An alteration that cast everything to the past
that every phase of shadowy distress
tangled and always cloy, us moving on.

There’s hope yet stubborn pride
not casting my anchor on this ground.
Mature eye, trustful breast of beast
learning through what I’m born to bear.

A glad comforter resting in my head,
she soothes me in grief I know
bracing me when I feel low.

Constant phase of feign felicity
moves on without looking this way
but I wait like the other day
for bliss and cherished rest to lodge.

Maybe I should pervade and prevail
the daily coil of life once lived.
Conceive, dissolve, change and rear.

An original on the still earth
A new disposition imprints
here here, to make a better memory
A maturer eyes sees the world ahead.