The wind rallied on the day
Destined to break the fellow's bone
Too short minded for his pain
He felt nothing but a boat's sail
For the luckless few he had confessed
Of the wasted dice that put him in distress
The lost soul, the misused child
Aborted trips and numbers to be dialled
Help him someone, carry it away
Shift the weight making him stay
If years then take the wretched sky too
And t'would be a life he could renew
In beneath those heart-veined trees
Lay a stricken bird before his path
Punching the knees he yelled a please
He became a King to banish his wrath.