Sincerely, Troglodyte.

Frostbitten, bedridden

Lightning struck, breaking even

Truth be told, all is well

Losing some, winning some

Fair for a cave dweller, sea farer

Against the tide, or with the current

Flying high, or staying on roots

Life's become too ragged, too quick

Too jagged, too strict

Still no offense taken, no urge waken

Gone is childish envy, and missing is haste

All's streaming, people ebb and flow

While the savage sits by the bank with a fire, waiting for nothing but for the flicker to tire