There is this penny that sits at the bottom of the fountain It's copper shinning with that of suns embrace of the waterIt seems so stationary among the slithering snakes Man-made, durable, permanent Everything we hope but cannot accept Our punishment for this desire will come soonAnd the snakes will devour our homes, possessions, and livesFor our cycle of living is not permanentBut theirs is So what will we do?The elder have chosen to remain blinded In hopes that their death will provide excuse for the unchanged futureAnd maybe they will be able to wipe their hands but dirt will always remainFor as long as one livesOne must act, change, live, fightTo live by seeking death is to have not lived at all