The masses rage and howl about
but here I sit without a sound.
I do not rest.
I do not wait.
There’s nothing I anticipate.
With all their darting to and fro,
I sometimes think they do not Know.
I do not fret.
I do not fuss.
There’s nothing I take serious.
They all cry out and writhe with pain,
addicted to their silly games.
I do not fear.
I do not grieve.
There’s nothing I will not believe.
Oh, to wrest them from their shells!
(But no-one seems to want my help…)
I do not rest.
I do not wait.
There’s nothing I anticipate.