The argument starts with a very reasonable complaint. He sees evil bearing down on him from all sides, and it seems that Justice is pretending to be deaf, blind, and dumb. As the light fades and night falls, he grinds his teeth to stay awake and angry. He is angry, because he can’t see past the events that are happening.
It is obvious to him that Justice isn’t senseless. He would be able to understand such justice; a justice that rewards good and punishes evil, but he knows that this is not the kind of justice he’s trying to reason with.
This is the kind of justice that has caused his knees and forehead to turn white, because he refuses to lift himself up from the floor. This is the kind of justice that makes him taste the dust and ashes that have collected in the cracks between his teeth. This is the kind of justice that he prays will listen to him, and for whatever whim or reason, stand on his side.
One day, he gets the revelation he was waiting for: Justice has its own standards. Justice prays that people will listen to it, and when people pretend to be deaf, it gets angry. But even when Justice is angry, it is still beautiful, because it’s always trying. It is always at work, even if it goes unnoticed by others, or has its results measured against their standards.
He unclasps stiff hands and raises his head to look, and sees that the dawn is here. This time, he waits patiently for disaster to come, and while he waits, he opens his mouth to sing.