Peace, joy in whatever form
These things humans have declared good
A transient ladder, a glorious peak
It’s tempting, aye it is
When men dream and speak of peace
While sharpening their knives

Joy, a fleeting conundrum of dirt
A vagrant of other nameless peaks
Love, tolerance and that ilk
Hope, charity
One is the same as the other
The others belligerents of one

Man will make many blunders
Blunders the type I have made
The type of which I am making
But as my nature dictates, I am divine
A curious superior being
Something infinitely better than you


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