Noah - Poem by Bob Chapel
... and he drank of the wine, and
became drunk, and lay uncovered
in his tent.
Naked, drunk, cursing God and man,
I rage against the way that it began,
This brave new world:
Eight souls adrift upon the endless sea,
Bearing the seed of all men yet to be.
Now, the pain and sorrow of countless unborn
souls weigh heavy on my conscience. I mourn
For them, for not to be is best, and I
Who long for death but am afraid to die,
Alone must bear responsibility
For those who drift upon this endless sea.
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