I saw the hills of Zion ablaze. I saw and wept. All in but a sterling second: pure fire, holy fire, righteous fire. Through you we are become equal. In war, in peace, in everything: we are nothing, and infinite.
And God spoke unto me. To comply! I have to comply.... I... we are nothing without God. Simple-minded. Simple-minded. Death: Pure death... Holy Death... Righteous Death... you are holy, my God, you are pristine.
But... But... But...
Dirt inside, dirt outside, everywhere, and everything is dross... dirty and gross... humorous men with swords and spears and guns and bombs.... Abolish... Eradicate... Exter...
Seeing the hills of Zion ablaze. Where I once traipsed inside Its temple... where vestals whispered golden parables, fraught only with delight. O women! Of such an... an immaculate gold... so consummate and pure.
Too much smoke! Too much haze... wholeness dispersing!
O, God... I obey.
They laughed! These inferior men, these worthless dredges... I... I should have predicted as much. I know.
My God then spoke once more; to purify the world with fire, It bid, to make the world anew, and a towering temple to raise, where only the weak once dwelled. Our Paradise.
I walked away, silently... shook, but happy... shimmying into the dawn. Next to a shadow, gliding, betwixt the walls of... of my enemies...
Had they no shame?
I must protect the holy... holy fire... purifier of my father....holy fire born of God (creator of my kin, through you we are become legion).
A sacrifice! Fire the purifier blazing... inward and outward, all around me, dronish strains.
They have neither a plan, nor weapons. No defenses.
Seeing the hills of Zion ablaze. Seeing the gutless men of Earth bowing to the one true God. Seeing these gargantuan boobs.... their shameless genuflections. I laughed. I shouted. I howled. On all my brethren, I called. We rejoice only in togetherness.
Alone, am I.... God... are any of us anything other than mere, misplaced sprockets?
But did they answer? Did they in unison acclaim? A shout for a shout proffer?
No, they forced the onus of reflection upon me. Their silenced joy begot only doubt. And I started to hear... to listen. An echo at first, forever in the background, perhaps, yet only now extant for me: this is not life, only sickness.
So many ideas, and so much darkness.
... Are you afraid, my God?