Lost in tealy seas, burrowing the pipes,
So small too small but dancing in the wake,
Of passing gods and flecks of wily beasts,
Leviathans with metal beaks.

How could I pass a day of halves,
Double dozen pruning garden paths,
Announcing loud a score and four,
Which rises to the crowds encore:
Dozen dozen twenty four,
Dozen dozen twenty four.

Above meandering paths,
The sky remains the same,
Though crushing rain pours down,
And makes the air full brimming,
The sky above remains always,
Though ground transmutes to flowing mud,
Thick through the grey and fullest air,
The sky above holds tight the rain,
It's shall not cease to guide its stay.

---

**Oxford Interview Reflection**
Keble 1, 11:30AM
I...
Was not picking up,
What was being put down,
And came out with a frown.

Hertford 2, 5:50PM
Somewhere I have found a path,
But is it too meandering?
A farce. Hard to trace,
The extent of the matter,
Through the vapour obscured,
But I took a path at least.

**INTERVIEWS COMPLETE**

I am undone,
An unravelled ball of yarn,
In moments of silence you put my heart on like a glove,
Flowing by in a torrent,
Of sorrow and love.

To my left and to my right,
They curse God and die,
Out of pain,
Out of spite,
They whisper and scream it,
Cursing and deem it,
Justice.

Your heart burns against injustice, O Lord,
Your gaze detests the darkness,
The stark darkness of their blindness,
You, my Lord, are a jealous God,
How long will your children sit in graveyards of shattered pottery?

I am undone,
An unravelled ball of yarn,
Purify my heart.

I am undone,
An unwound fishing line,
Wash away my filth in crimson blood,
And cast me out into the waters.