Afloat upon an ownerless sea
No man can own the waves
That slips gleefully between their fingers
I think how many tongues there might be
In pother places, rant and rave
But here , it is only the peace that lingers
How easily the rift was born
as men choose common sides
when God scattered them at a place called Babel
Today, the difference we may scorn
If we disregard our foolish pride
And over come the gap formed by such a fable.
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