How great the ill that Stupid God has wrought
All through its avatars, as might be thought,
And great the sorrow from those in it caught
Who sought to make their world a better place!
Yet though they strive, the ill still grows apace,
And still of hope there seems but little trace,
A scanty path that leads through looming wood
And by stark cliffs. Who would follow it should
Be wary as they work to do some good
Yet in a world, not fallen, diving down
Into the Stupid God; it tries to drown
Out light and thought and wisdom. Who can sound
The depths to which the Stupid God will sink?
O, none will find the bottom, so I think.

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