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You've come with limber frames
To lay beside the boots of your masters…
Your husks with charcoal stains
That they coax with meager rations.
And here, the nourishment of rain
Is the heavens' greatest show of compassion.

The rains remind you of spirits you're taught do not exist.
Behind the cascade he beholds you - the man beyond the mist.

You recall your mother's legends
Of benevolence from an unseen heir;
Yet his whispers drown in this sea of groaning -
They would curtail it from your ears.
And they would turn the wheel of progress
Toward a future without you there.
…That is, unless you refuse to steer.

Lay down your axe!
Throw your barrows to the rats!
Let him rekindle the fire of the mind.
Lay down their walls at the roots of the pines.

The rains remind you that your spirit still exists.
He is never outside you - you are the man beyond the mist.

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