A dark hallway at the end a door with light underneath.
Better men say Open it.
Better men, better inside.
Worse men say Wait, but open it.

Inside find axes and crows.
Everything a way to strip bare.
Better men leave them in sight.
Worse place them away.

Morning leaves no light to claim.
Sorrow comes, disappointment after a farewell of arms.
Soldiers lost in a cause reach for weapons not there.
They run, bare-******, unsure if a path of survival.

They chase sorrow into night.
Some come upon forest, become muffled from sight.
Others reach lake, creating in its depths.
Many run into prairie, where all is empty.

Better men say Run before morning.
Safer to flee under dimness of stars.
Worse men say Wait until sunshine.
In dawn's hands strip what remains to nothing.

Worse men feel they are not worse men.
Better men say *I am worse man.