Notes from the Gods

This is my letter to the world:
Why are you so cold?
I stand in the rain outside of your door,
Why don't you let me come in?
Are you frightened, my dear ones, of me?
Are you scared I offer too much, and ask so little? Waiting for a catch.
But, lo, you know the catch. You know.
Maybe I seek you after all.
You, oh! winter of discontent. With barren trees in you that have long since been stripped of fruit.
I knock at the door softly, but you dare not answer. To feel warm again, I thought that was what you wanted.
But I can only offer, you have to reach out and take it.
Are you that afraid of the truth?


And to have such gifts, you expect to give some great deal, but I only ask of you this:
let me in.
Let me fill this dark world with YOUR light. Not mine.
I am only the match and you the paper on which to strike.
The soil where you are the seed.
You are as ready for me as mankind can be, and yet here I stand.
Outside your door. And I can only knock softly.
Can you hear me?
Will you stop screaming and listen?


Resign? Me? Never!
I have way too much fun doing what I do. Maybe once in a great while I'm defined as "evil", but where did that word come from, anyway? From you. Not from me.
The person that breaks through your door and tears down your defenses is you.
You are just frightened. Frightened of me.
And I understand!
If I didn't, I wouldn't be myself, would I?
And you do know me.
You know me.
And of course... of course,
I know you.

Your life is
changing and you
don't know why.
The world is
screaming so
you cry cry
cry.

There is a time in life that you will wonder what it is going to be like when you die.
All I know of this process is the best and worst thing I can ever give you.
I will show you the world
I will show you your life
With me
And without me
And you will see in all finality
What could have been.
I will show you your box,
Full of treasures,
And you'll wonder why you never had them.
Then you will see,
And you will read the answer in my eyes:

You had only to ask.