When I Stop To Consider My Calling Poem by Roberto Tejada

When I stop to consider my calling, remark
the places a wayward temper impelled me
I've found in light of where I wandered lost
the most appalling evils could have befallen;
but when I disregard the journey it's hard to
even fathom I endured so much affliction;
what's more, my days being spent, I feel I've
seen my wariness go with them. I'll come to
my end, for I surrendered artless to someone
with the science to dispel and destroy me if
so inclined, else the know-how to want to;
for if, with this very hand I could slaughter
myself, why—not on my account but because
so suited—would my enemy do otherwise?