Happy days have long since ended,
Silent school bell knells no more,
Opus, compass, purpose , laetus
Stranger on a misty shore
Distance sirens have long been crying,
But never loud enough to steer,
This wreckage to the rocks they wail from,
The destination, still unclear.
Instead the shore mud, stiffly hardened,
Between the toes of the walking dead,
Puddled ankles, water cloudy,
The listener cannot be led.