I am a fortress.
I am built with layers of stone, layers of tolerance.
Inside, I hold a civilization.
They're not very evolved yet, they're not very wise.
These people have found some questionable answers to what is unknown.
They speak of a god who is omniscent and omnipresent.
Wherever this god is, Im unable to see.
My stones have been broken by strangers,
my drawbridge is weary to open.
Dead, plagued bodies have been attempted to be thrown over my walls, and my people have cowered in fear.
Many times.
My small civilization depends on their god and their societal systems, I don't know why.
But one day they will grow in to what Earth needs.
They will cherish and bless the goodness of the ground.
There will be a Socrates to lead them along.
I hope one day they will find that it may not be God they need to believe in, but their own structures of stone.
I believe they will find themselves.
And when my people do, I will allow them to break my walls.
Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 1:07 AM UTC
I am a fortress.
I am built with layers of stone, layers of tolerance.
Inside, I hold a civilization.
They're not very evolved yet, they're not very wise.
These people have found some questionable answers to what is unknown.
They speak of a god who is omniscent and omnipresent.
Wherever this god is, Im unable to see.
My stones have been broken by strangers,
my drawbridge is weary to open.
Dead, plagued bodies have been attempted to be thrown over my walls, and my people have cowered in fear.
Many times.
My small civilization depends on their god and their societal systems, I don't know why.
But one day they will grow in to what Earth needs.
They will cherish and bless the goodness of the ground.
There will be a Socrates to lead them along.
I hope one day they will find that it may not be God they need to believe in, but their own structures of stone.
I believe they will find themselves.
And when my people do, I will allow them to break my walls.
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