To speculate upon the nature of the 'man'
Or group of 'men' who built our universe,
Is to test imagination. If their plan
Is that we should not know our makers, they're perverse.
For why create us with intelligence
Sufficient in the end to find them out?
Unless discovery is an irrelevance,
Since knowing they exist can't bring about
Substantial change. The qualities imbued
In us by them, we think perhaps reflect
Such 'personalities' as they themselves have.
It seems likely they aren't perfect,
They are not God, for built into their game
Is so much violence, we are one and the same.
And on that basis then we must proceed,
Assured that there's an error in their scheme,
(Knowing there is always one in ours.)
For we are not mere puppets, who succeed
Or fail according to their whim, because to dream
Of something better is also in our power
So we won't admit defeat, or easily resign,
Because determination is also ours, by design.