Perhaps it was this feeling that originally drove humanity to create gods.
Perhaps we have always burned with a desire to love
So terrifying and so powerful that to bestow it on another living creature became...
The first sin.
Perhaps we needed a safe, indestructible being to worship,
To croon to in the night,
Whose face we could never touch but could yearn to unabashedly,
Whose hands we could never kiss but perhaps pretend they cradled us,
Whose love we could never lose because it was in fact our own reflected back.
It is a lonely love. It is a love that...
Maybe I can understand how wars were fought,
Maybe I can understand the FEAR,
The longing all wrapped up in belief, that could create such loyalty, such blindness, and such cruelty.
There is a need in us that can only be satisfied by gods,
Because on earth, in truth, it cannot be satisfied at all, and we are too maddened and too terrified by that knowledge to face it.
Better to love somebody who cannot be touched,
Who cannot be heard,
Who cannot die, or leave, or change, or fail.
(Who cannot live, or arrive, or stay, or succeed)
Somebody who cannot love back.
Whose proof we will never demand because it cannot be given, and we know it.
We choose to love something that we will never see,
Not because it fills us up
Not because it makes us complete
But because you can't lose something you don't have.