Worlds, the strangest reflections
Of all majesty, contained in motion,
Light, life, power, loss, darkness, pain,
And all the reasons of despair.
Why is there so much violence?
Why is there an abundance of greed?
Why do people want to be as gods?
And why have we not spoken before?
Upon the scales we have been weighed,
Deficient in ways of real love,
Poor has been our track record of care,
As if something broke within our hearts.
So much selfishness daily flows here,
So little response to the wasteful ideology,
I just cannot comprehend the thoughts,
That pay men to do their worst crimes.
Something has gone awry and fled,
For this hateful disregard to be born,
And for each one of us to disregard,
The love which could breathe so much more.
So certain am I that this is all part,
Of the experiments with love we display,
For an understanding of how love works,
So that we could ultimately be free.
Nothing makes perfect sense to me here,
Except it all has to be of perfection,
For love to be held as the force behind
Every molecule of all that can be seen.
Without love we would all be lost,
Nothing would have been done or conceived,
For the vacuum would repel all of life,
And every reason to have been at all.
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