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.