Reweave from Human Fabric

For nothing is attained till all is won,

No partial victory we can achieve

If the true surrender has not yet begun.

A lethal dagger held within a sleeve

Desire is that saddles us with stress

And lingers to explore exotic taste.

We cannot build a state of godliness

Until we clean the centuries of waste

That fill our temples with unholy things,

The storms of hate that boil and rage within

And the outward self that suffers still the stings

Of rancour, greed, idolatry, and sin.

I do not know if there is time enough

For man to mend the evil he has wrought

Reweave from human fabric coarse and rough

The beauty that his soul for long has sought.