And which way shall I
Bend the world?
Towards me and others' fear?

To use them plain,
Or craft their strain?
To hurt those closest dear?

Those things so able,
With length of cable,
Could I, while drawing tears?

I could, so simply,
So dare not tempt me,
To shorten life, by years.


Thus standing straight,
I hesitate.
Such ease would cast poor form.

So, instead, I lean,
As those I've seen,

                                            To light
                                                                   To lift
                                                                                           To warm.