Under the street lights, spiders mend their webs

Today a tree was felled and now darkness dwells

The trilling crickets must hurry, for man begins the old flite in a flurry

They must not forget in whose hand the world is held

No one has caught sight of the end, so the old order is still upheld

No illness draws close the curtains and the world’s bend is yet uncertain

The people strain and fend for themselves  and dare to learn a lesson