Our breath is no more than a puff of smoke
Our mind is nothing more than a spark
Thrown off by the beating of our heart
Vanish like the mist in the heat of the sun
Our time on Earth is like a passing shadow
Blaze out like fire in dry straw
The hope of ocean foam that disappears in the storm
Where lives are counted but as drops
Yet we were considered worthy to host the light
But with the casting of our crowns
And lifting of our hands
Not in praise of the giver
But to reach for the lustful power housed in a fruit
Light was made to contend with it's guard
And we were made to condescend
By the actions of our lifted hands
To the depths which once
Were set below the soles of our feet
Becoming servants to the slaved
The side chick that can't decide what ticks
And there we were for years and decades
Rolling into centuries and becoming millennium
Still we yearned for more of that power
Something to give us back that valour
A taste, a drop, a sense of hope maybe
We searched in the bloods of men
We searched in the depths of darkness
We searched in the souls of the undead
We searched and searched, running mad
Greedy for the power we could not understand
For power we did not understand
We wanted something
No. We needed someone
And he came. And we got him. And we killed him. And he lives
But like the prophecies the Pharisees could not see
We questioned and doubted this new found light
Now I question,
Is it hot? Are you hot?
Are you burning? Set on a hill?
Or in a jar? Under a basket? Under a bush?
I'm just a Quester
And I search for truth.....


© Leo_kitti