Member Poem

they are tools he uses to rebate
what he does not understand
an arsenal given by creation
heralding his rise and impending fall

What is a world without pain
death or love
paradise?
or hell on earth

for there is a balance 
demanded by nature"s hand
demanded 
like taxes from a serf

His is a trifling fate
live, fight, love
die.
a taste of life and no more

he is man
perfection's flaw
a god
willed and strong

a reflection
of creation's twisted humor
wit the celestial
or eternal cosmos

He is the beam
the line
and the muse