A bias on the lines of life
   Seems always to be there,
Slightly warping everything
   The thickness of a hair.
It even turns the ship of state
   By just a few degrees.
Anon the vessel founders low
   In poorly charted seas.

Just so, in every deviant thought
   The warp of truth is found.
To subtly ease the well-steered helm
   To finally run aground
The open seas must be achieved
   Ere sails can be unfurled.
Then charted, tested truth will give
   The vessel to the world.

Full many a man and many a cause
   Embarked with noble goals.
But inattention to the helm
   Wrought wreckage on the shoals.
Beware therefore the warp of life
   That bends us from the plan.
With chart and compass stay the course.
   At stake? The soul of man.

—Dave Breese