Agents of decomposition epitome of horror and disgust
And who detects the foul order receives a warning
Put distance between yourself and the object of contagion

Agents of mutilation epitome of wariness and indignation
And who witnesses the butchery receives a warning
Put distance between yourself and the object of violence

But some agents must return the elements to the earth
And some must cull the herd and nourish the generations
And death must follow disease predation and happenstance

What would be the best of all possible worlds
For the lamb or for the tiger
Neither is the end of the story

But some agents move toward those too close to the pipe bomb
And some intimately approach the patient too ill to speak
And others walk away the winners the end of the story

The end of one story one monologue
One dim blinkered Cyclops eye
But the epic journey continues

A hundred miles are now far less than a hundred years
Many centuries are required to build up justice
It takes only a day to tear it down