I was thinking about all these stories that trace back to millions of eras in time. And sometimes these myths makes me wonder . . . and I find myself thinking that perhaps, yes, perhaps that we are loved more than we would ever know.
How good the makers were
When fire was gifted to us
When mankind lived in the lights again
And yet we forget to trace it back
Awesome gods of dead ends
And givers of loveable means
What hides behind the masks of compassion
Is nothing but a personal deed
Race against race, we fight
Armours destroying armours, we die
And yet we forget . . .
That a god stole the fire and gave it to us.