PCV
 Make this garden green again, or
 Blossom the desert, they cried.
 We knew that we might likely fail
 But vowed that we would try.

 Though never a silent night would pass
 To wonder who we were,
 For if we helped a dozen today
 There were a million more to serve.

 Never the solace to rightly pay
 Homage to the gods we pray.
 Gods were distant and we were here
 (It was hopelessness we mostly feared).

 And if by chance the green would grow
 In the garden, we could never know
 Whose Grace had made the garden change,
 Whose Force would bring the drought again.