Retire, you screaming and reckless strain,
I want to dilute your desire to hate,
Dissipate, you loveless disease of the brain,
Let's try to make warm what could have been a cold fate.

Bloom, you timid tomorrow of mine,
I want to make room for another's petals,
Flood, you gluttonous gutters of time,
Give us the flowers, not just the nettles.

Linger, oh memory of a phantom friend,
I want to be a singer of your secret tune,
Be a full moon, you impending end,
Smiling crescents shine a liars light in my darkened room.

Awake, you sleepy and half-hearted hope,
I want to dance now but I'm dust that soon settles,
Come back, you lost lifeline and dreamer's rope,
Show me your flowers, I'm weary of nettles.