Knotted Scourge

How do we love one another if we are bred into hatred?

I called upon the world and it told me

it had died a long time ago.

That its keepers had become the masters of grief,

and sorrow gripped their hearts so firmly

it rattled the wretchedness in hollows beneath their spines.

We rack our children against the cold 

so much that their foundations are never deep enough to 

survive religious waters.

Tears hang clustered on anguished hearts.

Chills cling to souls who drown,

one by one in cascading tides of a world

hardened by an unyielding veil.

A veil that only shows half truths and winters

that fall around a soul when it is betrayed.

Did I offend you?

I apologize for asking,

but what does it feel like to be so weak mere words hurt you?

Does your heart have such little space for your soul,

that you could perverse the spirit of man and

stain the foulness of night across the earth?

I say unto you,

"Love as you yourself wished to be loved;

Truly and Uniquely."

Transparent as if through glass

to the see the pleasant beauty stirring just beneath the surface.

Hear me when I say,

and be quick to understand the concept;

Mortals will work until bent knees bring forth true conviction.

We will pay.

He who is the center through which all things flow,

will look upon the parchment in our hearts,

and charge us with what we have written.

Is your story writ with the garments of dark or dawn??

I await my conviction,

I understand questions come with a shadows tongue.

I answer thus:

"What tongues are these that would utter:

Love those who have wronged you?"