How hubris.
You, to think that you can stand there an tell us this?
You, with your pride and confidence.
You think yourself better?
Because of what, your god?
Your god can not protect you here.
You address us in the court of men.
Your god has no power here.
You may threaten us with all the forces heaven and hell have to assail against us.
But we do not falter at the threats of men who only have smoke and mirrors to carry out their threats.
Here, we, like mined men and women do not fall pray to the fanciful fears of men who fear demons and spirits.  
We fear for the well being of fellow men and not their souls.
A soul is immortal and thus has no need to fear the cold or an empty stomach.
But the body does.
So there for we fear for the masses who are with out and sympathize and greave for them.
What mercy does your god show?
What mercy does your god have for those of different creeds and races?
You may speak of mercy.
But this is mercy.
Mercy is what neighbor shows his fellow neighbor regardless of their creed or race.
You say that if one follows your god and words than they can receive heaven.
But if these are the holy people of god and if this is his word.
Then we don’t want heaven.
Then I don’t want heaven.

It’s only when you’re alone do you find that all you have, is yourself.
It’s when you find yourself standing in a room filled with people that you realize, you’re alone all the same.
Who will be there when you need someone the most?
What hero is waiting in the shadows to save you?
Is there really a hand to help you up when you fall down?
How can you still go on with life when you realize that we’re all racing towards the end.
It doesn't matter how the story of your life is filled with adventure, excitement, joy and love.
Where will those things be in a year?
In ten years?
In twenty years?
In thirty years?
Forty, fifty, sixty, seventy years?
You may dream of being on a beach with the sun shining down on you with a cool drink in one had and the hand of your loved one in the other.
But I know where you’ll going to be.
Dead.
In the ground.
And with what to show for it?
Only a story of work, disappointment, embarrassment and regret.
What is life if all we’re looking for is the next high, the next thrill and the next thing to keep us busy?
For in the end I know where we’ll all be.
Dead.
And in the end you’ll find that all you have, is yourself.
Stand in a room filled with every one you love and care for.
Stand with all the people that you would lay down your life for.
Stand with all the people that you love with all your heart.
For you see, I understand what love is and what becomes of it one day.
Dead.
In a box.
In the ground.
Rotting.
Like all the other dead that came before.
The most fragile of things in this world are the most beloved.
A new born child.
A flower of spring.
The gentle notes of a musician.  
But every child loses their innocence, grows up, sees the world, and dies.
The flower grows into its beauty then dies.
And every song ends.
No thing can live forever.
Only death is eternal.

I have done the one thing that God forbade man to do.
Even now the juices of that fruit still dries on my chin.
From my curiosity, I now see the world in ways that others can not.
But how do they not see?
Look up, look down, look around!
Don’t you see it?
Everything!
This world is filled with tastes, textures , odors, sights and sounds that inspire pain and joy.
And from those sensations produces ecstasy that is like no other.
But with those sensations comes confusion.
How does one make sense of the world filled with so much?
How does one make sense of a world that when you open your eyes, is filled with only chaos.
And when you open your eyes you see that order is as frail as the babe born yesterday.
And when you open your eyes, you find that people are as ignorant as that babe.  
Why do they not question there place in a world like this?
How can they wake up every day and never ask themselves why?
When you open your eyes you see that the world we live in makes as much sense as the archer shooting arrows towards the sky.  
And when you try to make sense of it, by asking those around you.
They only look at you with confusion and contempt.  
They ask you why you ask these questions.
They ask you why the answers of gods and monsters isn't satisfactory for you.
Why do they not want the world to be rational?
Why are they content with watching the shadow of the sun when the real sun is outside the cave they dwell in?
That cave is comfort to all, but it is not life.  
Life is what happens once you see the world.
Once you’ve seen all the marvelous facets that the world has to offer.
But how do you explain the joy of having the grass under your feet to a person who only knows the touch of stone?
How do you explain the cool touch of water to a man who has only been given water sparingly on the tongue?
How to you explain the warmth of fire to he who only has has the chill of solitude to console him?
To explain the taste of that fruit which is logic is to explain life to a man content with shadows.
And now I see why God on high forbade man to take of that fruit.
For all it brings is melancholy.

That we crave.  
To hunger and to lavish in this place.
Humbling and irritable.

Green as life.
Green as poison.
Green as envy.
Vexing.

Illusions and illustrations of what we want.
Imagined by the imitable.
Synthetic satisfaction.

Sins of Incontinence.  
Sins of Hunger.
Sins of Commonality.
To be half is to be all.

What’s the best way to go about it?
And have you pondered if you’re putting too much thought into it?
They appear to know what they’re doing, while you do not.

You have some idea where you’re going.
But that nagging thought seems to be more persistent than you believed it to be.  

To reorder things the way you like would be nice.
But to have done it right the first time would have been better.

Do not give something that you are not willing to lose. Do not give someone something that you do not know if they are will be given back. Love is as reliable as the summer breeze and just as sweet. But bitter is its departure, as is its nature to do.

We sing
We sing of what we feel
But how do you sing to show what you feel?
How to you choice your words?
It’s easier said than done
Your song is your own
Your sentiments are your sentiments
Does one choice one and not the other?

We do not live by the accusations of others. We live by the verdicts of the world.

You find yourself on a distant shore.
Known to all, but you.  
A land of history and faith.
Customs practiced here are familiar to you.
Customs you know are in blood.
Your blood and theirs.
But in this land of faith, rich in gold and memories.
You find it hard to recall yourself.  
To recollect what you were before coming to a land of mystery and belief.
Trusting yourself and trusting your strength.
You have lost nothing.
For you have gained much.
But all things have a price.
And what you have gained, the fee is high.
That is the price in this land.
Coming to lands unknown might just cost you your faith.