I won’t let go, though I don’t understand.
It seems that rage is now your métier,
But nonetheless, I will be here today,
And till the day they lay me neath the sand.
The world’s in motion: swaying to and fro,
And you possess, at last, the key to truth.
So now you burn with all the zeal of youth.
Though I don’t understand, I won’t let go —
The truths we throw are often wrong,
We don’t know till we throw them —
That does not mean – and never has –
We should not try
To know them