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The world stays still is full of still emotions, and still we accept it as it is. We have come to a point in time where love is not important or imperative; we breathe for now, but how to live is far from our thoughts. An assumption was made of a man who came, and was said to be our healer, our father, but did we bother? I am yanked by the collar and stopped at the floor where he bared his feelings and thoughts. Conveniently constituted by a hand that was fluid yet the steadiest in the land, Alpha, Omega; more than Greek letters, but do we choose the latter? Should we let it matter, if the indigenous people neglect the facts and and become hatters. Accepting neglection and avoiding protection from the torment that is to come. From the troubles that they... accept fate from a fallen angel, cantillating ever so soft. Chanting as if the end was near, and still we are given no reason to fear... death. I apologize to the one who forgave me before I spoke, before I provoked, before I even awoke... from the womb, human tomb, dreading this life which is infested with gloom. As I shout through the shutters, my words being to mutter, fainted and stuttered, my voice is now... gone. Like the winds, like a wild flower leaning on a dandy lion, is it flying, or simply floating away. I am tempted to say that life has driven astray from the North Star, so subpar, and I regret to say what kind of fools we are.