To A Book By C.S. Lewis Poem by David Mitchell

Oh, Jack, I'm sorry - tears cannot express
My pity for your situatedness
Next to an atheist's bawlings: all my heart
Demands that I should tear you foes apart –
What rage you must have felt - forgive me, Jack,
For you no longer need bear Richard's flak
Of furious scientism; for now, calm,
I hold your soothing rhetoric in my palm,
And, seeing you plead so helpless for release,
I'll loosen you from chains and give you peace.