By Kenj The fish of Saint Anselm Rivers as so wild flow, fish no power but to follow Up to the sea the journey ends yet a new starts As born they think a home first and ever to last Time passes, to change the perfect they want not ‘Ve heard the fool to St. Anselm, in hands the betters Hence the mind from the unknown freaks and fears As elder fish travel connections with youngest drops Poor fish their only wish the destination late to reach So far so impossible the find just by mind only to perceive Pressure on ears as down soo high on eyes as deep so dark