The Fall of Rome

Cling not to the debris that is washed by the wave,

For this is dead and detached.

That which is pushed upward to crest and then splash,

Is product and empty, and gone.

Seek refuge in depth and find pressure your friend,

And strive never to grasp and hold onto.

Turn inwards my friend and see what you have,

For little is more buoyant than none.

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