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Of He
Some speak of the goodness and mercy of He
The inexplicable goosebumps that mount a believer's arms and legs
Believers, who question not His power to reward the good and return their suffers for immortality with Him,
He, who is so Great that He has Created and cannot destroy such Creation without good judgment,
Judgement that is gone unto its pupils as a word to follow and not question, for He knows all
Others speak of the unreasoned discourse of the world we live in, and regard with question the mercy of He
The fire that burns their bones and fuels their passion are made of heart material but, only to distinct eyes
Nonbelievers, who disregard the word of text but, with specifically the cause of wont in their tempered souls
Souls that were crushed by reality, and could not find paths to revelation, for immeasurable hurt clouds their windows from seeing the Clouds,
Clouds that believers and propaganda has labeled Gold in exchange for strife
But the Gold of He is not known with irrevocable certainty by His People
All People, the People He made
Yet, one factor stands firm to forwarn fate for faith:
Death
Tormented souls spurn Him for the wrongs against those loved
But, may embrace Him when their own unendings draw near
For the same reason they reject, they do succumb
To their dying breath, as death lays them to rest, do they praise the "goodness and mercy of He"
Try though, as I might, to climb mountains high, made too momentous for any one
And to brace resistance of the winds or arduous streams that do not conform to this mountain,
My climb is merely subjective
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