Come to this side of the ignorant
Across from the rising sun
Where the trees bend
And the rivers run dry
Where life becomes a reaction
To a greater being
We depend upon only ourselves
Come and let us hear your prayer
A poem from time, forever,
Resting on a far away meadow
Where clouds never show
To where we may never be
Until the blissful death imposes
Our wishes to be anywhere
But this world of theirs.