What can humans see through the veil of mystery that is death what do humans as a hole know. What do the demons sleeping inside us think when we praise false gods? What about the false gods where did they come from is the human mind so weak that people had to imagine things to blame for their wrong doings. What about the "true god" what does it think or does it think at all, is it a mass of power so intoxicated on its ego that it has lost its mind. What of the hero that we praise what happens when they are no longer a hero? What happens to us as we devolve in beings of bloodshed. What of the people slaughtered at the hands of cruelty? The world is full of questions but how many answers?
Why do humans thrive as being what makes one think about the future and what it holds? What does life make of those outside its rules such as those it cannot predict the future of. What of those who die before life commands them to. Is life an all knowing power is it a force that dictates everything and everyone or does it give them the choice to choose. Those who ask why will never know because we are mortal we will not be here for long so what it that makes us think about our own death do they cower in the knowledge that they will die or do they accept the fact that only dyeing will give us the answer to the question we seek.
On the dark splotches of life do we simply forget about them do we remember them for eternity forced to watch as a darkest moment are revealed to those around us. Are we simply to never think about are failures. Are we to never remember anything that has happened to us. do we just live on in ignorance's or do we accept what we as people have done to one another? What is it that we do to those we have harmed in anyway are we to ask them for forgiveness and crawl away like coward. Why are there so many questions that only those morally sound can gives us answers to there are so many that think that their morals are the only ones that matter.
Is it not a curse to live alone in the knowledge that you are alone in the quest for an answer to a question no one want to ask. Is it that I as a person am insane or are those around me. Or am I the writer of theses many morale questions a madman in my own right. For I do not know, for I do not wish to know that which lies in wait for me. For I be a madman or I may be a genius if I am then either of these many titles which society has given many of us then. Then I do not wish to be given the answer to my question.
What of those curse to live out the rest of life in Gahanna? Are they accepting to live in the black flames of corruption? Do they feel the emotion we do or are they dead to the world in a state of ignorance? What of the children cursed with apathy do they think the way?
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rambles of insanity in morality
Poetryits the rambles of a man with no hope and no future