Life’s not hard enough,
so let’s invent a foe so fearless,
That it doesn’t toy with your dreams
So much as mocks them.
A tyrant that hands you back, ravaged,
After it’s done its worst.
And even though we call on everything we know
Science, all of it, yes,
The tiny powdered capsules of hope, thrice daily,
The temples gelled, the paddles clamped securely,
Still we are brought to our knees.
We may summon the gods, too.
If there be such things,
And if there are,
Now would be the perfect time
For them to show up.