If the wall of fog does churn and reach
If it breaks revealing the sun
If creepy entropy robs my marrow
If I find myself in peaceful rest
If everything I own was suddenly dust
If everything I own was suddenly gold
If I captured a sunrise in a poem
If I alienated everyone I know
If it was suddenly illegal to be me
If I am celebrated on high
Though I be blessed
Though I be cursed
It is well with my soul
