The tears flow in an endless stream,
A watery shrine for a broken dream;
A wordless lament for things that weren't,
For lessons taught, but never learnt;
They say the world is an unkind place;
They say mankind is an inhuman race;
But no man says what all men know:
Only in the kind will kindness show;
A ship is sound when on the ground,
When her masts are tightly bound,
On a reckless wave, in the open sea,
She is mercy-bound, let Mercy be!
Should she be ground on a ruthless mound,
Or misguided, lost at sea,
Only then 'tis found if a ship is sound,
If she regardless goes where she needs to be.
But even the soundest ship shall sink and drown,
If her heart-wood rots and frays;
Such is the might of the poisoned noun:
Even friendships it decays.