Give me not the roar of voices
But the whistling wind
The crashing wave
The creaking bough
The trembling earth

In the raging fire
Such evils transpire
To burn away the hope
Send me down the slope
Without my beating heart
The most important part
Of all that I am

Have I not wandered enough
Seen enough
Heard enough
To know that hidden wisdom which
The world seems unwilling
To provide?

Walls press in
Until they find my skin
On all sides
The ceiling gets low
And the floors upward grow
Till I am small
And too large
At once