Magnificent, the world in which my life
Resplendent lives–the place I yet reside–
I have no thoughts of leaving. Thus I hide,
Perfection so deceiving; and the strife
I see is that which I desire; so rife
With excellence, as may inspire and guide,
As flowers of evil, peacefully subside;
Maleficence benevolently siphoned
Out, bequeathing uncorrupted beauty.
Stout perfection cracks and shatters when
I travel not abroad, as is my duty
To this perfect place, and stills my pen.
Lest, wretched with sublime I must conflate,
How stale then, the world I must create.