“For those of us who live at the esplanade,
Cold grows colder even as the days grow longer,
Fair youths beneath the trees thou canst not leave,            
Bare essential alone for those that cannot indulge,

Vapor light buffing dreams to ones doorways,
Looking inward and outward as once before,
After seeking one now can indulge in the future,  
Vigilance of succubus in the minds of our youth,

For those of us who were imprinted with fear
As things in need of doing go undone,
Homeric of old anxieties beacon in the night,
As this faint apparition looms before us in fears,

With that and buried ambitions rise up afore one,
These have peregrination the coldest lands and sea,  
Although we ingest again or feel the adulate of love,  
We are aghast once loved will fade as we are alone,

Preyed epics of old anxieties beacon into the night,
Those of us seem not be heard nor best if we were silent,
Linger long a sacrifice may creates a stone in our hearts”