The Sage Offers the Dire Solution

it is addressed thusly:

A thought.
it reads:
Those who wish to live, live
There is no more direction to give
Whether they pass through death
Or pain, or darkest shade
They do not hold their breath
But exhale for air is made
And cling not to death.

Oh! Where have the children gone
Rows of houses stretching on--
Snout-houses! But why build a wall
When there is none to keep
To keep safe from the elements all
Furious that make the women weep
Oh, Why then build a wall?

The dead don't need to reproduce
Redundant remain the gun and noose
What life have they themselves to live
When pain and strife they cannot face--
What life have they themselves to give
A child -- a pilgrim seeking grace?
But those who wish to live, live.

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