Endless Poem by Ena Nin

Shadow diggers of Far East gold,
Fierce pharaohs on a spree
For fry so weak, they beseech them
How the mud chokes the sea
If it can only flee


When I was small, I saw the nests
Of many mountain birds
Too frail, their chirps, so few this morn
Why curse so undeterred
Their home is now a blur

For there are nights that never rest
Through out the dust will roam
So blind the greedy winds will run
Plowing with its pronged comb
Even the fishpond's loam

Oh wandering fear of their souls;
In the end, seek no lee
How many lives they have to run
The trail to prophesy
Bemoan the piracy!