Knowledge comes slowly,
The first fact is lonely,
The second is strong,
The third makes the first three wrong.

To the wind my words are dedicated;
To worlds that have been devastated,
And those yet to be born.

Carry to your enemies
Soft and subtle heresies,
For curses are forlorn.

But for a simple rhyme
There simply is no time
Your worlds flow freely into the world

Caress them where it hurts and hit them where it pleases
You will find enough ruin to go around
Wisdom loves and hates unbound

Thoughts in blissful contemplation
Are doomed to be lost in translation