Utopia

Utopia, such a deceptive word

It is not with the top you should be concerned

It is the down, down, below that matters

The dirt, bones, and blood that are our rafters

Harmony is not to be confused with beauty

Nature abounds and delights in cruelty

Every wonder must be met with tragedy

Every cure leads to another malady

That poor and desperate actor named Man

Ever playing out the script of some dreadful plan

No change to the play can be allowed

So says the whim of an unseen crowd

Play out the drama as you can

Build your Utopia with weary hands

Watch it fall as a thousand times before

And hear the theatre’s laughing roar

Oh poor actor, in pain and misery abject!

Pitiful performer, how long you have wept!

Every moment you dream, of fleeing this fate

Of escape! Escape! Escape into the waves!