I rued the journey

            Fearing what I dared to find

            At the outposts

            Where I set up camp

            The earth accepted my disquiet,

            The skies closed in

            The way I’d felt your hair upon my face,

            And every freely taken step

            Grew heavy

            As I fixed my wayward lights

            Upon the rapier truth:

            That knowledge would be left to rot

            Unless it led to power

            All the more I yearned

            For orchard fruit and the 

            Embrace of harvests fled,

            Which both of us mistook for

            Slavery