Drops fall, cascading after all,

noises, far away, do they fade, fade, fade,

Until, the oceans lid a spade,

And there you see, a pine

a quake has been made,

There is no motive to run away,

If I may?

Why hide, why escape, why go..?

is to have no faith.

Yet to verify ones calling among the midst.

Duke, duke

Who is Luke?