Wandering this desert of
green fields and roaming rivers,
these barren lands you’ve come to
loathe but now you have returned
to, there’s still not much I can
respect you for and even
These hands that reached for the hearth
behind your hardness have gone
unrewarded all these times,
until your eye was struck with
blindness and even now there
is not much to go by.
Yet to be left like you are now –
even you do not deserve this.