Oh whisk me away,
ye winds of fate.
My flesh, it withers here.
'Tween the toll of the tide
and the chortle of Time,
my mind so refrains from its' ease.

There once was a day
when my spirit could claim
that is was quite relieved by your lead.
But more often than not,
it seems your clever plots
are foiled by Time and her schemes.

So don't drag me on,
don't tell me your plans,
don't try to dodge Time and her tricks.
Just leave me alone,
with my own plots and schemes,
and I'll fend for my own ****** self.