Had it not been for the wonders of everyday life that brought the very mystical theory of magic to the world, the gods would be extinct in their cages, waiting for the day that a young child would finally set them free. If only the young child knew of the dangers that await once the gods step out of the locked boxes man placed. Upon Olympus, they look down and frown and grin upon the things of the world and the things from within that gift them with another day of eternal life. The eternal life that longs to be taken away from the greedy hands of the men who put them there.
The timing seems rather off for this particular piece of work that represents the immortal and the eternal flames of the gods. Not one, not ten, but a plethora of beings that control the whisper of the wind and not the soul of man. Is there no end to the raving lunacy of an extraterrestrial being who begs to be brought blessings from a berry? The light-footed step of the deer holds no weight to the crown of Jupiter who sits upon his throne with a look of disdain and metal in his eye. How he laughs at the puny humans for worshipping him when he has done nothing at all to aid them in their times of suffering and anguish.
The matters of man are matters of all the gods. There is not one leaf on the ground that goes unnoticed by him that is also noticed by the gods. This duet of nature is not natural at all. The gods of the cities and the gods of theater laugh and mock the gods of nature. How can the gods of nature be satisfied with a dying blossom and not with the pleasure and contentment of man? They feed the very beings they worship. The gods would rather wait on the hands and feet of the mortals that keep them alive then rot in the caverns of Hades, just waiting to be let out like a sick dog in heat.
Speaking of sick dogs, humans are just animals waiting to be devoured by their own contempt in life. These humans really think that they can put a solid definition of what a god is. They only know what they know and not what they don't. People who tend to be incorrect never actually answer the questions placed before them in a straightforward manner. They only deflect to keep their pretty little heads still on their shoulders. If men were anything like the gods, war would taste so much sweeter than the seed of the honeysuckle. Instead, they tremble and whimper like mewling kittens hoping to seep their claws into the first bird that flies by.
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Yeah, that's really the gist of the paper. Just questioning humanity again and again. Not much has changed from childhood.
