There is a sheer melancholy coming to my ears
When this sea complains that nobody has heard me in years
I am tired of taking so many tears
Life of man has changed from unknown fears
As if thoughts of sustenance a King rears
As if a snail could not pierce the conch it wears
As if children of Lord have lost the ultimate grace
And they don’t tend to look in face
This is the same man who intends to beat light in the race
It is the man who is ready for the challenge to brace
Rise up Achilles, this time leave no trace
You are child of the mother who wants another Alexander to raise!
