Dancing the dance of ages,
Entangled feet fail again.
Rehearsed steps of past wages,
Prove fruitless amidst the pain.

Lessons from lost love of old,
Do ill for present comfort—
Just my own shoulder to hold
Through this trek in the desert.

Hills of flowing foliage
Shackled time's disruptive hand
Yet now I live in bondage:
A cell with miles of sand.