Only part of us is sane:
only part of us loves pleasure and the longer day of happiness,
wants to live to our nineties and die in peace,
in a house that we built,
that shall shelter those who come after us.
The other half of us is nearly mad.
It prefers the disagreeable to the agreeable,
loves pain and its darker night despair,
and wants to die in a catastrophe
that will set back life to its beginnings
and leave nothing of our house
save its blackened foundations.
Happy new year, all.