A wise oracle once said,
"Men shall become slaves
to the mocking light
of a yellow stone
They shall wage
wars over it
They shall go mad
with fanaticism
They shall blind themselves with
its emptiness and
care for it as their valuable catastrophe

It will ******* weak hearts
It will trick the righteous in a dark,bottomless pit
with no way out for anyone

...

In the end that magnificent,
sparkling stone
will bring out the hungry beasts
in all of us
and polish them
taint them cunningly
with its infinitely depthless beauty"

On a tree trunk, sat a little boy,
Thinking of life, thinking of the world.
His thoughts drifted to a world faraway
Where virtues fell as rain
And hearts spoke when words failed
A land so pure that knew no deceit
Where dwelled the righteous of men
A realm where the ruler and the ruled stood together
A gate of abundant glee opened its way
And a stream of goodness cascaded across
A land protected by valiant sentinels,
Flowing pastures that brewed loyalty
A land that shall remain only in the heart of that little boy,
Who sat on a tree trunk, thinking about life.