Stop reading, I tell you;
there is no resolution coming.
Only laments and curiosities,
incursions into the soulless depths of mesonoxian thunder,
maybe a note on the desirability of warm socks,
but no satisfaction.  

Don't expect a mournful awakening,
nor deliberate (or otherwise) profundity.
-disregarding the note on warm socks, of course-

I have given you warning, and if you continue,
the burden of  exploration falls on you,
for consideration is the ferry to insight,
of which this text is built strictly without.

The boatman may ask that you pay with your wisdom
and refuse those that have no treasures to offer.
Would that not be the most desirable life?
Where we live to learn and when we have,
the boatman ferries us into the undying waters?

And those refused must wander and wonder
why they were excluded, where wisdom is birthed,
realizing that they are exactly as intelligent as they work to become,
to which the boatman might say, "Welcome aboard.  Tell me more."

Allegorically speaking, this notion is nonsense.
Metaphorically speaking, completely absurd.
Practically, it's practically insane,
though actively, it is inanely preferred.

Alternative to apathy and pageantry,
wherein the boatman has empathy for those without wealth.
There is no true truth, only real observation,
so stop trusting my judgment and go create it yourself