On came the television;

Midnight, the time was,

And I find myself wondering…

How late is too late?

How far is too far?

Know not man what he does?

Or doth man lay in indecision?

Doth man fuel rage with hate,

or doth man love's nature mar?

In my head, these thoughts were thundering…

And in my mind, an eruption,

Fantastic though it may seem,

I could not fathom, could not grasp,

Could not understand, nor should I,

And of such will I ne'er hold contempt,

For 'twas but a necessary disruption,

One with which I find myself content,

One with which I myself might redeem,

And one day, ascend high into the sky,

With one and one alike, hands clasped.

And I doth find myself in a multitide of places,

From the xanadu of paradise in the skies,

To the infernal raging fires of the underworld,

From the grasp of demons and devils,

To the good will of the divine crusaders,

And in these places, I never once find happiness;

I can only find tumultuous disgraces,

I can find no good, better, best,

In my insanity I find myself curled,

Wishing only that it were later,

That I were further on within my reprise,

That I were at the end of all human levels.