When they die we say nothing
When we lie we receive everything
Yet those are the true heroes
And we are the true zeroes
They despise you not
They simply call you out
They envy not you but I ask you
The bin has a mouth but no stomach
They cry at times not to give you headache
If truth was the universal love we would all listen to it.
See those dying kids fighting for bugs to feel their stomach and hear their pain whispering in your ears. Isn’t the emptiness we feel the presence of god? She god never comes to offer us flowers and a warm bed in a world like ours for she knows even her isn’t at peace at the sight of a dying world. Truth is what you see; it is what happening in you. In the murky places of our mind we are sure to find slaves and masters, monsters and saints, rapists and lovers. What then do we do? We simply bring the world within at peace and we let the world know the way trough parables.
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