Come what may,
So shall this day,
Form out of clay

Its shape either white or dark
Leaving in me an imprint, a mark

That I carry for time
A single moment I call mine

Whether evil or good
This day happen as it should

I shall take whatever come
And my lips shall wither but a hum

Neither scream nor moan
Shall be in my heart sown.

So I say, upon this new day,
Come what may.