On this voyage
I've found myself in a mute.
That even the captain lost in thought of ideas.
This is of the joy which life has dealt with me.
Love in lust that non knows my being.

Though being decorated as a black sheep...
Get no thought of me with no query.
Else you be sinful for gossiping.
That which has been our daily work

And no growth is made therefrom.
Lay no yoke on me,
For my loads are weight to bear.
But lighten it up for me.

Less I make a last visit to the grave.
And in your prayers my place be restored.