A shadow at dusk becomes
Two clouds in the night
No moonlit sky
Dust from our surface earth
Most have less worth at times

Amber suns burnt out beyond
This horizon nearly done
Visibility is often said to be earned
The crowds of which chatter
But who lies behind

Tally up Tally **, for a house of old
The race of petulance soon be gone
Some cities fall and people go on
To grow into the next steps
We always call upon the young

How to find my peace
When nothing fulfills me?
When the genuine severe my grave
And I am the genuine severing yours?
In all earnestness my heart recovers grace,
In solemn silence finding petulance,
Sulky, old smiles alternating.