“I suppose it is better,
To know that it’s done”,
Said she to no one who met her,
For she was the only one.

Indeed, it was done.
A great big strife.
Gone with the sun.
Only left was but a life.

Wondered, she wondered,
Over the ground,
Pondered, she pondered,
Every sound.

Last, the last soul in the world,
She built a boat,
With a sail unfurled!
And the last crackle heard from her throat:

I cannot change this awful wind with my wails,
But I surely can adjust the sails!
So, you see, in brutality,
Sometimes just what's needed is a change in personality!