It is said virtue possessed by a sage causes him no misfortune But it is he who must decide between rage or a stoic nature In all of life he sees the destruction cast by manβs emotion The will of another man is how he determines which is greater
Would he hang a nun in the town square if it would save a forest? He once could see snow on the mountain tops in the spring And now that he can only see rock he wondered of his desires Was it for mankind or the bounties he received to hear nature sing?
If only his will could be released from the evil and the good Then his form would guide his views within the natural state But what has cleaved to him is being torn away while he grieves And the steps he takes can only hear the voices of his fate
The aggression of making a life made an orphan of conservation But lives alone in the wild was intended for our own good A revolution cannot begin until it reaches those with something to lose Until then one man will give his life as his mother knew he would