The vale, the hidden tear, the secret cove; 
The amnesty declared before the war -- 
The many nights you've knocked upon his door 
In hope of finding one last treasure trove 

The cry of seagulls far across the sound 
Has brought you to this time, this place, this grief 
And left you wanting someting like belief 
And wind and sky where you've known only ground 

My friend, no one should tell you what to feel: 
Desires rain on heart and head and lap 
With reason simply acting like a map 
For where we all must go to buy, or steal

  The measure of our minutes, with its span -- 
  For lives are never really built to plan