What fools these mortals be?
Empty shells of misery,
They love and hate, cry and weep,
yet every feeling left incomplete
obscured and tainted with apathy
Nor this nor that, no side to choose,
they try and fail and never succeed
They speak every ruse as if the truth,
nothing surpasses their self certainty,
yet doubt shadows their reality
But still they they raise their chin up as if,
they were royalty,
pure and complete?
Don't mock them dear friend of God,
These mortals may be rife with paradox,
pert and lost in fallacies,
but in their hearts lie Gods treasuries
They know nothing nor see what we do,
Their eyes shut to their own self conceit,
but true beauty lies hidden within shades of grey
colors arranged within their blank canvased hearts,
Where God paints with every stroke,
His wisdom on these strange folk,
As they walk in forgetfulness,
His love surrounds the air they breath,
every atom and particle decrees,
it was and always will be,
every reflection your reality speaks;
All else is because your existence is,
tis a reminder for us my friend,
that mortals are fools,
is proof of God's Infinity
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem