My woe is made from –

the howl of the winds on Jupiter,

the pained song of a lone blue whale,

it’s strength sinking into the the fathomless depth of the ocean,

the blood-curdling screams of Caesar’s enemies being dragged towards death,

and the tearful sobs at a funeral service.

I found it –

crouched in the decaying ribcage of the u.s.s Arizona,

lurking in the damp depths of a cemetery,

sharpening an assassin’s blade,

in a trench hunched over a fellow dying soldier,

hiding at the bottom of the Thames with sunken corpses.

This woe can –

shatter Mt. Everest into a trillion tiny shards,

shadow your every move for eternity,

kill thousands of innocent civilians,

infiltrate pine gap or destroy the facility in one fell swoop.

If I lost this woe –

mafia would use it to take over the world….