A font of uselessness I, within our growing danger
My thoughts slip away like the wasps in the autumn
Stinging in rapturous abandon they elude and betray.
Make of me a grey shadow of empirical knowledge
Yet I must bear this insult and retreat back to lucidity
Concealed deep within labyrnthic memories is truth
Remember that which has been hidden by the enemy
As the swallow returns in Spring so shall our resolve