When you bow your head and fall to your knees,
Knowing day departs and darkness will be long—
Open the unblinking eye within,
Live close to open water, down where blue heron stands,
One leg holding body steady, without a sound
Watch wild beasts on the hill and serpents in their den.
Of course your soul will resist and regret
When walking on steep path, thirsting, wanting sleep
While wondering if dawn will come again.
Guard your heart and never trust his clever lies.
Be angry that cripples have seized the throne,
Ensnaring all who dream of gold in the tall dark tower.
Hope comes when the eye begins to see in the dark,
Knows the purity of cold despair.
In years to come, mind will enter itself again.
Until then, trust that gods still hear your cries.
And never, never grow accustomed to the dark.
All this once happened before, and worse.