To all of you; in what state is your woe? You shall never have to tire
at the sight of the fallen body. You won’t be forever.  Promises kept
for thousands of years. Tell all of the secrets, for all will surely
listen. Value the time, but live as well. Once is never enough, but we
know that two is too many. The divider of the world, shredded. Pieces
scatter through sand and soil, through mountains and deserts, through
rain and snow, through rivers, and through the oceans. Unity, for all.
Good and the bad together as one power. There is no other, only the
indifferent.

But is it for all? Is there a single world that can hold the entirety?
No, there is no possibility of perfect. Discard. You may never have to
tire at the sight of the fallen body, but what if it is because it
tires you no longer? There will never, be one power. Unless we make it
so. Cooperation, an action that cannot be forced. But if becomes an
action seldom seen, measures will be taken. To make the world ideal,
you must first destroy the limitations. Now think, my partner on this
earth, how can we tell what the limitations are? Is there anything you
have ever seen that is flawless? Can it be done, or will we collapse
under our own demands? We order ourselves to destroy our morality; we
just call it something different.

Unique, we say it. But do we mean it. Is the girl like the girl? The
boy like the boy?  There is no unique. It is no longer, probably once
existed, destroyed, as a limitation. Defects are a killer. Of mind, of
soul. Can you control the wind and the water? There is no such thing
as a good person. Broken promises and lies, kept secret. And yet, you
have told us of the secrets. Was anyone really listening? Speak to an
audience, who will hear you? Who will listen? A storm that hits, a
storm that passes. Which existed and which did not? If there is no
infection, there is no disease, no treatment.  Without flaw, there is
no object. Without fault there is no world. There is a place, in which
we live. A place where unless seen perfect you are discarded.
Limitations. Think for a moment, what are you? A fallen body is not
dead. It is lifeless. And few today, tire at its sight.