when falls the echo on forgotten ground
none of our heroes can come up for air
since there is not one inch's room to spare
for exploration and we must confound
the masters of each noble hill and mound
who watch as we succumb to deep despair
and laugh while those who voice kind words of care
fall silent as our last good hopes are drowned
the long goodnight that none would dare to say
to any who has travelled through that cloud
past all the boundaries of human grime
is spoken now so we might reach a day
when all that's visible all that's allowed
within the reach of normal common time
is but the text of one less moral play