I plotted out his direction,
from the beginning of the story to its end.

I informed him of the voices that would guide him along the way:
Plato, Marcus Aurelius, St. Augustine.

I gave him strong, frost-bitten hands, tender enough to pluck a sliver from a child’s palm,
I gave him sturdy shoulders, capable of carrying a moral cross to a conclusion.

But when I made him meek,
I gave him a load too heavy to bear
and now he will go no further.