Once, I too empathized the fallen soul and personed the non-person.
Then I learned of there perpetual demand for significance—
and so I chose to give it to the inert.
Once, I too stitched the torn and soothed the weary heart.
Then I learned of the contempt they harbor—
and so I chose the blade to cradle peace.
Now, I lack empathy—
but also the vulnerability it had.
Now, I lack faith—
but also the torment of betrayal.
Now, I am labeled Insane—
and that is true, too.
But mad is the world.