Even.

Fool let me shelter your
illusions for you and taper
fair replacements for abuse.
Send me your expectations
and I will matchstick box
them for their striking.
Let me set your captured free
and fill their cells with
less willful needs,
and confirm your roots
before cold animals collect
them for their roofs.
Give up your yearly mention
and let God receive it from
me, strengthened,
and achieve what service
of contrition has the length
to save a shadow of yourself.
Allow me to fortify your stockade
doors in order to protect them
from the pressure of it all,
and forge from the degrees
of your world a purpose
to preserve.