Pity the foe
who inflicts woe
on those diff’rent
from his warped bent, 
gi’en half a chance
 — whose ignorance
would have imposed
on those opposed
to his own views;
who flexes thews
when all else fails
to make faith quail:
first, last resort
to which such sort
turn, at the fall
of old hats — walls
raised to keep out
truths which feared doubts 
raise — raze, shear, sear 
blinds they hold dear.

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