The weight of the universe,
But I’ve never had such strong arms
Seems to me a bit perverse
Deliver the sleeping to life and then immerse
Them in hostility and harm,
But for a few consolations
We would refuse to bear it
Preferring the cessation
And subsequent damnation,
And misery outwit.
But that imperfect face,
And the words it leaves spoken
Gifts me trust in the human race,
A suit of armor encased,
Until my faith can again be broken.