Machiavellian, I might declare,
And have no reason to deny,
For here I garb me self as a worm
To those who dare to defy.

The folly of the world I scorn,
From the very start of speech,
Renouncing capital letters bold,
Brother, here I abstain from reach.

But of foolishness you know so well
For still you remain blind
To the unveiling of Isaac’s tale,
And those who count in kind.

Yet in the end, no rancor remains,
For if I care, it is but pity,
And not the fires of passion’s claims.

Marco Delrio

Skeptic

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