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