Oh, way of twisting root,
snarling beneath my feet,
serpentine it looped the vine
that caught me underneath.

Oh, way of groaning bridge,
creaking across the glen,
it mumbled as I tumbled
from the here until the then.

Oh, way of weary drifter,
carving through the cliffs,
long the road and strong I strode
on legs so sore and stiff.