The way it is,

The way it should be.

The way we struggle against,

The way we deny with our dying breath,

Cursing it into the depths of hell,

For the horrid truth it inflicts upon us.

The way that we cry out to the heavens,

That they may have mercy,

That they may bless us with rain,

To nurture our dried out souls.

The way the draws us out of the valley of shadow and death,

The way that looks upon the unwanting soul,

Blessing it because it is effortless.

The way that revolves around the sun,

That upturns the people,

In the name of revolution,

In the name of freedom,

And the equality of all.

The way that thrashes down upon the rebel,

The way of power,

The way of fault,

The way of bearing the burden.

This way.

It is yours.

It is mine.

In eternity,

This we share between us.

This is our dharma.