06 Jun Holy Anchor

Bewitching most of all
Are what Mes tell to Is,
We live by single thought,
Often told, a single lie.

I know not why this world is
With its aching, sorrowed dark,
But it is not for enjoying,
It is no pleasure park . . .

Holy Anchor, snap these cords
Swaying torrential squall:
My life is cosmic in scope
But yet speaks itself small.