I

There a Barn sits
Untouched, idle and shunned
Graciously patient
And maidenly

Fertile, her yard,
But abandoned by Flock
Searching a farmer
For furnishing

The Barn bereft
Prays for joyous rebound
While paint slowly peels
From coutenance

The Flock marches onward

II
 
Distantly placed
Is a downhearted Fool
Who contemplates past
Ashamedly

"Devil!" he cries
For his past Barn has burnt
His ignorance tool
Of destruction

Absent he was
Distracted and busy
On fixing a fence
And perfection

Discerning sin
And the blindness within
"I wish tend again"
He says softly

The Flock marches onward

III

Wayfaring days
The Flock finds itself lost
But fields that are strange
Turn to dwelling

Bitter they graze
Mourning their better days
Unknowing and grieved
Hope approaches

Nearing alone
Is the downhearted Fool
With woe that summons
Eyes of the Flock

The Flock stops marching

IV

Returning home
The Flock leading the Fool
The Barn comes in view
In the distance

Changed has the barn 
Its comeliness withered
The red paint has chipped
And is faded

The Fool stops

V

"There between lies
An inelegant fence
Of hemlock and rot
And obstinance

And if I pass
I will burn down the Barn
From beauty to ash
In a moment

And if I pass
I will burn down the Barn
My character is
of ruining

And if I pass
I will burn down the Barn
On fixing a fence
And perfection"

The the Flock marches onward
The Barn withers
The Fool remains the Fool