They say we can't stray ashore That the tides solemnly abate our sores. We may never be seen in this fur again. Our past so doomed it halts our 'morrow. To stand with despair as our only brother. 'Tis not the rain that waketh up our sorrows. When the heavens door stay not ajar. 'Tis not the whirlwind across the deserts. Nor the many tears lost in the mountains. Is to not be hopeful our only solace? Have we so wronged the sea gods? Did our fathers falter in their homage? Seasons halt as our anguish knew no bounds. On a land once so lost in merry,,