For what virtue does the mind proceed,
To urge a soul towards war?
Disarm it with a dreadful deed
And poison what is pure?
What reason ever may transpire?
What wisdom be learned here?
By turning a saint into a liar
And rational to fear?
As we know no value of a gold;
That never leaves our hand,
And only when a dream is sold,
Do we ever understand.  
As we only see one shade of white
Until another shade's beside,
And think almost nothing of the light,
Until we wish to hide.
So let the thoughtful lessons be
More knowledge for the wise,
The mind will claim its victory
As the soul meets its demise.