Sub->CL
Sub
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- Mar 15, 2026
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Black backs beneath the merciless white sky,
Small, foolish creatures, born to eat and die.
They bickered over fruit, they scratched, they slept,
And through the heat their simple minds they kept.
No grand idea had poisoned them with sight;
No question followed them into the night.
How low they are, I thought. How far beneath
The splendid curse that gives a man his teeth
For every mystery, his mind a flame
That burns the world and then demands its name.
They do not mourn the passing of an hour.
They do not dream of empire, truth, or power.
They do not stand beneath the stars and plead
For some vast answer to their private need.
And God, how I despised them for their peace.
To be so small, so empty, yet released.
I know that I am greater. This is true.
And that is why I envy what they do.
Give me their little mind, their narrow world.
The sun, the trees, the hair around them curled.
Let me be ignorant of what I am.
A lesser beast beneath a greater man.
Let wisdom keep its throne, its crown, its chain.
I have no strength for being wise with a brain.
If thought is height, then let me gladly fall
And be one of those creatures after all.
Not noble. Not profound. Not even free
By any definition known to me.
Just lesser-
and, for once,
less burdened by being me.
Small, foolish creatures, born to eat and die.
They bickered over fruit, they scratched, they slept,
And through the heat their simple minds they kept.
No grand idea had poisoned them with sight;
No question followed them into the night.
How low they are, I thought. How far beneath
The splendid curse that gives a man his teeth
For every mystery, his mind a flame
That burns the world and then demands its name.
They do not mourn the passing of an hour.
They do not dream of empire, truth, or power.
They do not stand beneath the stars and plead
For some vast answer to their private need.
And God, how I despised them for their peace.
To be so small, so empty, yet released.
I know that I am greater. This is true.
And that is why I envy what they do.
Give me their little mind, their narrow world.
The sun, the trees, the hair around them curled.
Let me be ignorant of what I am.
A lesser beast beneath a greater man.
Let wisdom keep its throne, its crown, its chain.
I have no strength for being wise with a brain.
If thought is height, then let me gladly fall
And be one of those creatures after all.
Not noble. Not profound. Not even free
By any definition known to me.
Just lesser-
and, for once,
less burdened by being me.
