And how would you live your life?
When no rules exist, how could you be
Where would you check your views
To whom would you run for clues?

You lay rules for all life; to live
A grid line on what and how to be
Not an inch your ideals bend
And no broader your wits extend.

But I don't just mean that you're strange
Every reach in history builds your range
But break your limits for once,
Let your instincts run amok; advance.

I am no fool,
Not a person to by played with,
You cannot trick me,
Expecting to get away with it.

But if you dare to do,
I will dare to challenge you,
I prefer a battle of wits,
To see which of us wins the day.

the world rejects sorrows
for happiness can be sold

whereas sorrows lead to life
happiness naturally believed

even within mortals' reach
hurrying to seize is thus life

with wits, strength, and help—
willing or not—for time is short

if death undefiable, it'll be mocked
for you shall go smiling to the grave

Knowing neither good nor evil but just what is
The science of being is to flow to reach goals
For which you're free to choose and dream
Armed with wits and strength to learn and strive
Never failing, always believing, of indefeasible spirit
Bowing to no one but yourself as justified
For you're always higher today than yesterday

When love grows cold, we buy and sell
For we rather ******* than despair
—the fighting spirit empowering the Beast—
But love waits, in pain, crying silently unseen
No exchange without the mark of the Beast
Driving to desperation and worship
Those who live by their wits and arms
COVID19 will expose who these are

Optimism,
     hopelessness' necessary delusion, and
Positivity,
     a fierce front confronting unbearable reality;
Darkness' depths,
     a shield from light's searching searing heat, and
Rather a slave
     to one's own wits and strength, than to truth.

constantly confessing sins
      never knowing forgiveness
like a man with a book
      but unable to read
or a fool hoarding gold
      and dying from hunger

enslaved to the pride of life
       the measure of men
of winning and success
      compelled to boast
the works of one's arms
      flaunting wit, or foolishness

but oblivious to the exposure
      of their nakedness and vulgarity
of pain and confusion
      of faith in their strength and wit
of the Mark of Man
      on their arms and foreheads

believing by strength of will
      what is given and not by works
the soul betraying the flesh
      in double mindedness and hypocrisy
seduced by free will
      but enslaved to another's will

but the further apart,
      the more fervent
to execute the command
      to impose commands
on their neighbours
       when the only command is love

by the measure they measure
      they are measured
for they have become
      the enemy they condemned
and judgement is just
      for evil judges evil