The fly behind the window pane,
Would seem to struggle free in vain.
She butts her head toward the light,
Restrained by our inventive might.
Leave her there and she will die,
Her search for food gone quite awry.
And yet it's not stupidity
That does her this iniquity,
But ancient mind and species power.
For if I want her to be free,
Th'responsibility lies with me.
And if I fling the door ajar,
I now become her avatar.
She my queen and I her slave,
She my column's architrave.
It's liberty for her or death.
The stakes for me but cleverness.
Could God have made a mind for me,
To make me serve, not make me free?
To serve both fly and old narwahl,
And creatures big, and creatures small?
They bargain hard, they bargain thus:
Face death of world or obey us.