(To the glory of Ayn Rand:)

“I am, I think, I will,”
As I walk up the hill;
I have the light
And I am right,
And I am climbing still.

They say that I am wrong
To light the world so strong,
That men must bow,
And men must cow,
And bear the darkness long.

The night is here for fear,
And fright should all men steer,
To keep them low,
No joy to know,
And no new light appear.

I was, I thought, I made,
I cast away the shade;
I lit a light
And I was right,
And I am not afraid.

They cursed me, judged me foul
(The hate in them a howl);
They said that I
Had sinned, to die!
And so they chase me now.

I flee, I run afar
Into the forest dark.
And yet a lift
Is my bright gift,
That shall from me not part.

I’ll be, I’ll think, I’ll do,
I’ll do for me what’s true;
I have the light,
I’ll bright the night,
And cowards won’t pursue.

Who comes? What’s this? That hair!
Is that my Gold One there?
My other light
Comes through the night
And all my future’s fair!

We are, we think, we will,
As we walk up the hill;
We have our sight
And we are right,
And we are climbing still!

One independent thought,
One dream that I have wrought—
The world began
With solo man
And wins with what I’ve taught.