I don’t want so much to make a difference. Far, far, far, immeasurably less, to BE the difference.
I just want to keep my integrity in a world that is a graveyard of consciences that once were muscular and powerful, and souls that once were sincere and genuine and authentic.
If I cannot do this, I will have lost everything.
And I deserve to perish forever.
Let me then cultivate a little worthy of the grace and beauty commended unto me.
Though I should disappoint my beloved ones a thousand times, and yea a thousand times ten thousand over, let this seed of truth and virtue perish utterly from the treasurehouse of my soul.
For I am weak, and the world is mighty.
Be with me in my fear.