Not. - Navi's Admonishment
Blame not the foul north winds,
for the rank stench of decay and complacency .
Look not to the sands of time,
for succor in your quest for redemption.
Shake not your fist at the barren heavens,
for its callous contempt for your cries of refreshment.
Cling not to finely wrought metal for comfort,
Cool to touch yet quick to burn.
Perceive instead the rot within,
the impatience, insensitivity, idiocy.
The face painted ogre you bedeck in finery.
The one you prostrate before in abject adoration.
And rouse,
from this reverie you so obstinately cling to.