The poem with a few revisions that I couldn't resist.

Godlike Weariness

Falter but don't be flickering marshland boy

You'll have the touch there, you'll have joy.

I hold my thumbs so very tight for you

My nape tucked in my shoulders tensed.

We are both pilgrims with our pilgrim lust,

Our garaged faiths, our loves dispensed.

Your journey's goal has turned to dust,

So slip into the fen. Be brave. The fine

Light that seems to fade will lure you on

Toward a mere forever drained of time.

There you'll not falter nor flick your tongue
At me my boy. I've had enough, all is done.