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In aimless quest, they stride aligned |
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A blinded horde, towards decline |
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Without the forte, to feel or see |
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I contemplate, deficiency |
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On sloping trails, their quest proceeds |
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To find at length, a way to see |
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They search above, they search beneath |
|
I contemplate, deficiency |
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Holding hands, they stumble forth |
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A sightless pack, a search of 4 |
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Lacking forte, they feel to see |
|
I contemplate, deficiency |
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Bruised and torn, they stride ahead |
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Towards a fate, of certain death |
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They lead the way, for fools to be |
|
I contemplate, deficiency |
