A certain intangible
Remains to be unseen.
Too fast or, perhaps, too slow,
The want of spirit keen:
Eternal is the word -
That promise it assured.
Can more be sought to aid these woes?

Eternal is illusion:
A pond, upon obtrusion,
May try maintain its steady shape
But in the wake there lies
The high, the low inside
To permeate, disrupt, create:
Of what is made eternity
That's more than lack'd vitality?