Such a thing as you must feign.
What misery in these martyrs' roles!
Such minds must shiver with the pain
of glaciers sawing skinny souls.

I for one have tried to fight
the sparks that leap from off your pyre
which scorches those who "see the light"
and burns them all in borrowed fire.

And you're so careful not to "WHY?",
or lose your blissful look, or scream,
that you can't hear the children cry
or taste another's golden dream.

The world that needs you you've forgot,
and since you quite refuse to wake:
the cross may bear you; I cannot.
I hope you die soon for our sake.