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He brings about my envy

My envy brings with her

My distaste - her love child,

Hateful of his own gain.

They froth together

and corrode my wisdom;

my inexperience is exposed.

Helplessness comes like a vulture

To feast on my exposed inexperience

My soft underbelly

Torn open by the sharp beak

My tears spill as entrails do

Where helplessness feasts, tearing

And ripping on soft inexperience.

What is the slave? How can my stomach

Be sewn up? My wisdom

Re-covering my inexperience? The hilt

Of my sword under my breastplate,

My armor, my wisdom, is also a weapon.

My sword is foresight, that the eyes which see

Are too fated to become dust.

This mind which thinks, to become soil.

It is not enough comfort!

Who is that? Who cries weakness

So boldly in my ear?