Rho (The trees clap their hands)

It simply isn't as bad as any of that.
I've emphatically shrieked to them all
Below
About how lonely it is up here.

But the good news is I was wrong.  
There are rings of promise,
Rings that change
All
My empty ramblings
To some sublime phase;

And I wish I was there except
My time, ever, is coming
{and by coming I mean relentlessly approaching in such manner that were I aware of it I might flee, fool-hardy clinging to some good I so obviously own now without knowing that splendour from which I ran}
And until selene absconds me
I am in a race and running.

Now is the time to sing as much as I can
And to make sure the songs ring true,
To be all the time renewed
As I all the time shout
About grace and only grace
In honest
In soothe.