Though sometimes we will kill to live, we are brothers of blood and flesh. Though in our hearts we have love to give, with hate it will often mesh.
Our stuttering steps of progress are a pattern as old as time, and dreams lost in darkness mark the fate of many of mine.
In this place of joy and pain, the wise have often spoken of a Truth which is much too plain – all that is made, is made to be broken.
So join hands in love and leaving, for alone is where you shall find the Unbreakable One beyond all believing, in whose space all has dwelt since the beginning of time.