Picture this if it’s that damn hard for you.
A man stands upon a lifeboat
The icy freshwater waves soar in sharp shards
The sound of the November wind drowns sound
The wooden hull with life’s goods crushes before you
Look about once–just once,
the lowering storm clouds, no land in sight
And if you have an ounce of imagination outside of your
Self-gratifying, sensualism feel the freezing cold
Make your grave here and drown without Reason.
Or make for the lifeboat and stand your ground on
The shore of life
My brother, you have powerful argument,
You have good points, let us bring those to the ear of One
Who listens without patronizing
Come now.
Now.