By: Sir Ephesus

[All is pitch dark. I speaks]

The Universe collapsing,
What a morbid sight beholds Us.
Perhaps then We’d remember,
That our evil is of selfish strife.
The Soldier charges forth to die,
And by thy courage in himself there’s might,
For Will is what You’ve given men.
Oh Lucifer,
Dreadful things You’ve truly done!
For look there: a sinless Boy does think!
And I would not behold Your sight today,
If in an apple Your eyes shut remained.

The Universe arising,
What a mighty sight beholds Us.
Perhaps then We’d remember,
That our Clothing simply hides our guilt.
The Radical comes out to sing,
Let His apparel not define his soul,
For behind cloth We hide our shame.
Oh dear God,
Wondrous things You’ve cert’nly made!
For look there: a sinless Boy does play!
But I would not behold Your sight today,
If from His ribs You’d not make Him a Friend.

Silence, who speaks there?

What is this?
Who am I?

‘Tis I.

Who speaks?

Nor You nor I know fellow,
So I’d hoped You’d soon arrive
So that You could tell Us that.

I know not who we are!
Why, have you not got a mirror?

I do, and I’ll gladly share it.

Delay no longer, pass it forth!

Hold, it’ll be of no practical use
For here there is no light in sight.

Through such excuse seek you to trick me?
If the mirror you’ll not share,
Then I’ll borrow it at night,
And without telling you, old tyke,
I’ll, myself, make my own light!

Hold, the mirror has no might.
Have a gentle hand,
Or no mirror We shall have.

That’s quite enough!
I choose to make your mirror mine and only mine!

Then do what You must choose.

[hands mirror]

Hold my glass no longer!

[grabs mirror but it falls and shatters]

The mirror! It’s shattered!

That mirror required light.
To Us, it served no use.

You! It’s clearly your fault!
Why not pass it sooner?
Perhaps then in my wrath
I would not have dropped it!

Hold me no aversion;
Blame not the possibility but the actuality,
And in actuality, nor You nor I can be observed;
Therefore, will You not say we don’t exist?
And what ends are there
To impute what does not exist?

You speak of observation?
But we are none of Science,
For true scientists exist and we do not!

I beg much on the contrary,
For observers often overlook themselves.
And they often overlook God, You and I.

What outrage speaks you?
If You will not elaborate,
Then clearly be at peace.

How truly useful is,
To not believe in God.
How certain all things are,
When one knows all the laws.
How small appears the sky,
When one could simply fly.

If I ever asked why,
They would have told me why.
If they had ever dreamt,
They would have called it sleep.
If they had ever flown,
They would have called it flight.

Those are the ones we know,
Those scientists of old,
But there’s another kind,
Though there are a few of them,
Who do believe in God,
And often are quite odd.

These men believe it all,
And everything that is
And all that ever was,
To them are miracles.
At all they are impressed,
And all they contemplate.

If I ever asked why,
They would have said why not.
If they had ever dreamt,
They would have spoke in length.
If they have ever flown,
Would’ve seized the moment.
But there is no such thing
As a true scientist.
Because true men know that,
To truly know it all,
One must have never been,
One must have never thought.

And how do you know this?

I don’t.

If you know so much then go on,
Tell me what we are.

Souls we are.

Ha! So we are wandering souls?
Your humour entertains me!

Wandering not –wondering souls.
Do we not wonder who we are?

Ha, but clearly if you’re so “scientific,”
You’d know that the soul cannot be observed
And therefore,
Speaking on such a thing is meaningless.
-Ever more if such a thing you’d use
To define our little selves..

Have You forgotten how the mirror shattered?

No, I’ve not.
You mis-handed it to me and down it fell.

And friend, what made it fall?

Why, gravity of course!

And in this negritude, have gravity you seen?

Gravity is a powerful thing;
It needsn’t light to be observed!

Souls too are powerful things,
For look at You and I.

I cannot, for the mirror’s broken.
And in our talk,
No time you’ve given me to invent light.
…And we do not exist in anyway;
Yet another reason why I cannot at us look!

Nor souls nor We exist;
Such mutually inexistent things are…
Seldom distinct and easily other things.
Thus I claim that we are souls.

If you’re so stubborn then I’ll be so too.
I will not believe your word until I do.

Oi, dear fellow, the soul exists.
For look at why we think,
It must be souls that we are, no?

Why, no my friend,
No, there's no such thing as soul.
For look in with the chemists;
A chemical reaction thought is.

But souls make us unique,
And thus I am not You, but I.

By why call it souls?
Cannot 'reactions' serve just as well?
Assign to what's observed
The simplest word that fully describes it.

Then let yourself imagine that
I made a copy of Yourself,
with memories, and brain and all,
and let both have congruent minds,
then certainly, if both think just the same,
then the same person they must be,
For it You claim that one is 'reactions,'
and therefore two of You there are.
But given one were chosen to survive,
Would it not be You, not your copy,
Who you'd choose?
But why, I ask.
Are then You both not the same one?
Or is there something else that makes the self
But the reactions in his fine brain?
We have observed this thing, this difference,
And is the word spelled soul not best to fit?


Then so be it,
The soul indeed exists.

Truly so.
I now see that soul represents more than its
Literal manifestation,
For auras we do not observe,
But Ourselves,
When fine men as You and I do speak.


Twice now you’ve argued what I’ve said,
Am I truly such an abominable man?

Not the man but his ideas.

But is a man not his ideas?
Far more for you and I,
For our flesh and blood we cannot see.

Then so be it,
But take not my opposition
As if I dwelled in selfish strife.

Then why seek to oppose?

You’ve ready said it,
“For auras we do not observe,
But Ourselves
When fine men as You and I converse.”

I did say that,
But that souls exist we’ve established.
And therefore those words
Are very much irrelevant.

Think not little of Yourself;
Your words are ever most relevant.
I love You and Myself,
For our mirror we’ve become,
And our conversation is our light,
For from You I’ve seen what I am not.
And by You I’ve changed a bit.
In our opposition we did break our mirror,
But a worthy sacrifice it was,
For what use of such a mirror if we hadn’t sight?

Together You and I have made a Universe;
We’ve defined ourselves and brought forth light.
The eye can see itself only by other things,
And to Ourselves
The other’s eye’s become a mirror.

If I’ve argued with You,
Hold me no grudge,
Marry look,
We’ve made the emotion of love
From this darkness upon which we speak.
Let not our callow love step back to yield to hate.
Rather, let both emotions be equally embraced.

You are a fool.
Your contradiction is embarrassing;
You ask me not to hate
Whilst love is all you use.
Then let us hold such equality as You’ve said,
And let me hate you and myself.
I hold you grudge,
And redemption I know not.

I do not believe we fully understand
The purpose by which we speak.
If we were fully concurrent,
How different would we be?
I wish for us to unite,
And by concurrence become one.
A most wonderful being it shall be,
For its thought would be in balance.

Such hateful things as you and I,
We’ve disrupted the peace of this dark world,
But it was you who firstly spoke!
Your rigid words awoke me from my sleep,
To find that we were woeful souls.
How dare you do us such a thing?
How dare you tempt me
To make such a cruel place?

Be joyful,
Is it not greater to live in opposition
Than to not have lived at all?
This strange and dark world of ours,
It’s quite just.
For You choose to hate and thus You hate
And I choose to love and thus I love.
Come brother,
Let us understand each other
By understanding our reactions
To the words of the other.
Let us have peace!

You are selfish;
You wish to make us one,
But I wish for us to remain distinct
So that I may over-live you;
So that hate may dominate thought, not love.
And hate breeds a will to survive,
And it brings courage and defense,
And other fruitful innovations.
Your enterprise of love is futile,
For love is ignorant
And it’s unfit to survive in this dark world of ours.

Such that under common form we share our existential experience, then it is necessary we accept the inevitable consequences of our reactions to certain stimuli.
Let us not pass in thought this very verse, for from it I seek your reaction just as well.
I must make a defense at this time to the possible reaction of You, who hears these words: I have observed, without doubt, of those who seek to establish such a foundation and on those who avidly oppose it. Please, although it is not my wish to suppress your reaction in this regard, I must ask for it to come in a way that will allow us to advance forward in a manner that is concurrent with the lemma.
By a peace I mean not that we not argue, indeed argument is the symbiotic behaviour of deducing a mutually beneficial conclusion, but that we do so under a hyper-conscientious field of rationale. That is, I ask not that we seize the art of argumentation, but rather to embrace it in way of two faces: the argument and a sense of luxury in doing so; in understanding others as we hope to present to others; to do and act exactly as we currently do, but with the new awareness that it is done for the benefit, not for the regression.
Listen to me for one time, abandoning normality Just once, listen:
Euclid’s ten Axioms
Do state clearly that
If A and B are both distinct,
Then A and B are not the same.
And so it is that if they were two fine points,
They shall be connected by a single lane.
But if that were all–
That ever mattered,
Then I would be quite very qualm
Whilst Euclid preached under a tree.
For it is that I am never ever calm,
Knowing that a Greek limits Geometry.
Knowledge is power,
Or so they all say,
But I must again disagree,
For I met a man once who knew,
And even as being a religious Jew,
Fell to the hands of a mad artist of old.
But if it must be,
Then allow me please
To tell you all the things I know,
So that you will learn one more thing,
On the being of the human perception.
Please listen to me, for only once I think:
I know how to stand,
Yet I always slip.
I know what it is I could do,
But never know what I can do.
I know how to speak all languages of men,
But it seems that I can never talk to them.
I know of Vodka
And his friend called Reb.
And I know what occurred that day.
What happened I cannot truly say,
Because old Euclid managed to limit me,
Unless I could manage to find the right Geometry.
Aye! Tell you I shall!
But first you must look!
Where? That is meaningless. Just look.
Look and find me a single page,
With our omnipresent curiosity,
On which A and B are truly the same thing.
But that ain’t easy
For both A and B,
For they would then lose their great might,
And become very much like I.
But, mate, once you have been able to find it,
You will sadly know I have nothing to say.
As being mute now,
And full of passion,
I will now prove that Euclid’s wrong:
Look right here, I’ve got some paper!
And let me draw points A and B so that they are–
Much the same as Euclid reckoned they should be.
How do they equate?
Once had Euclid asked.
Because his stone was very hard,
He had assumed they don’t equate,
And so they remained just as he had made them:
Objective to themselves and full of hatred.
But stone is quite hard.
Inflexible? Yes.
My paper on the other hand,
Is made from bark of every tree,
Those trees who live for æons and watch us be.
Trees who willingly give men their own bodies.
And this paper then,
Carries their essence.
And that is why I truly can,
Fold the paper in such a way,
That A and B coincide and become one,
Much like the Father, Holy Spirit, and Son.
And so I will say,
“Euclid, you are wrong,
For we can let anything be,
Another thing if so we please.”
But let me tell you though what I really think,
I would rather I be You, and You be me,
And then You and I would surely become One;
One who looks about with much delight.

Nevertheless, I shall at least contend one point:
The nature of argument has nary ever been one of symbiosis. Granted, one who partakes in debate is necessitated to have a committed adversary (or at least an advocate of such magnitude) in order for the debate (through either reference frame) to continue. However, the cooperation of both parties merely aids the preservation of the argument itself, not the parties involved. The practice of argument is inanimate - it cedes nothing to those who propagate it. It's all take, and no give. It's a parasite, not a symbiosis.
All things being equal, debate might deduce for the combatants a mutually.-beneficial outcome. However, like the constraints of the aforementioned geometry, all things are never equal. The winner of the debate is he who argues
best - not he with the best argument. To the victor, the spoils.
Instead of pusssy-footing around with the flowery 'hyper-conscientious field of rationale', such an adage as 'play nice, kids' would have sufficed.
A young man needs violence. A young fawn needs love. A young debate needs volume. If you're advocating the soulless trade of ideas, devoid of any outwardly-visible care in the outcome of said ruminations, then curse you. You'll get creamed if you leave your spirit out to dry unfettered. If the other man has guts, a good place to look first is for a spine. The undue precept that "he'll be a coward too, I'll be sweet" may as well be a large neon sign reading "hurt me and I shall turn the other cheek!”
Brilliant and such an argument against me -that such is art in You I am nothing jealous. I shan't deny that a young fawn indeed needs love, and that a lover dwells in love, and that a bird is but a bird, and that a grain of sand is quite, too, itself.
And thus I must too agree that You are merely You, and that a thing is itself -such is the pattern of the world; to limit things to their very beings. But limit is the consequence of existence; one cannot be another thing; one cannot be whilst one not be; such limitation fosters asymmetry, and such asymmetry fosters imperfection, and such imperfection defines our individuality -and beauty it is, for it gives us shapes and colours -a worthy effort to understand through a pinhole, for what worth would be in trying to see when one is greater than the thing? Give up not your individuality I say! Give up not your ways, and change not your wickedness; but reckon that an augmented awareness can give us peace, among us both, intertwined with the consequence of war, for is it not that we decide the significance of a thing?
Should then our quarrels and our insults limit our peace? Marry, escape the patterns of the world; rip logic apart; open a window through the medium of reality and change not your position but your sight, and look upon with much delight. Do not limit peace to be what meets the eye, let peace be among us by our very awareness that we are here to hate, but that in hate, we find not hate but love in us, for I repeat change not your ways but your awareness, and thus no peace we will find in action, but in mind.
Behold the logic of the world! Let me bring forth a single thing, and then another; there are two things for a single thing is, by the patterns of the world, single, and thus such two things are two such things. But behold a rubber band, two opposite sides it has. And therefore the two sides are two sides, for two is two in such a pattern. But let us cut the band and rotate a single strand by 180 degrees, then Ho! We've a Mübius Band whose sides are one. And hence we've changed two distinct things into one by Our very action: Our influence on the environment, that is, the band.
And so be it with all that is, let You not be limited by the patterns of the world; break through the logic of reality and frame a window from which to see, but move not, only see. And by sight, your awareness shall be your peace.
Hold! Defy not what purpose you have to believe me, for such is God.
And God –so mighty a word; the word itself sits as the ruler of human thought.
Limit not the definition of such a thing, for pity as religion does it so.
Let the empirical evidence speak for itself; behold the lack of proof of a religious God.
But let It be the essence of perception by which we make a dove a sound and communicate it thus; let God be the air by which sound travels. Let I perceive the hue of a wild flower and let me manifest it in a word, let God be the paper on which I write the language. Let You behold my fallacy and let God be the fruit of your communication; let your proof of my fallacy stir the argument and let us learn from each other who we are. We exist when we perceive ourselves, and we perceive ourselves when we can bring focus on our self character; when we acknowledge what we are not and further refine what we are. The eye can only see itself through other things, and when the eye can see itself, then one has been created by his very sight and awareness. And thus let God be the creator, and as such God is the space between You and the mirror; God is those things which are not You nor I.
Worry not of other things, for only God, and You and I exist, for You and I are the two beings which do converse and God is the medium upon which we define ourselves distinct; God is thus everything else.
Oh Brother, allow me to be your brother, for You and I are brothers, and God is our father and only God, and You and I exist. Let us have peace among our minds, but let us not change our malicious ways.
Fellow, hold me no aversion! Allow me, brother, to clarify the antecedent: God is our ability to comprehend each other’s minds; the minds of You and I and only I, and You and God exist.
Let us have peace of mind, but not of action.
Love me when you hate me; love me when you hold me malice and when you argue with me, for our arguments shall serve to ultimately see each other by the works of God
–Oh God, you are the medium of our mutual comprehension.
Let us love another whilst we remain in hate; let us be ourselves and other things; let us be unlimited by the patterns of the world.
But since limits are the consequence of existence, then nor God, nor You nor I exist –and us three is all that there is, and thus so all that is and ever was does not exist.
So be it, let us not be, and peace in mind we’ll reach.
So be it, let us be, and nothing will be everything.
So be it, let us have our minds at peace, and the Universe was never made; it is nothing.

A wise man you are,
But I fear that You and I are too unlike.

And that is our greatest affinity.

Then let us be at peace of mind
But not with one another.

Let us make of ourselves what we please.

But to make ourselves another thing,
We need other things aside from us,
For a man who judges race,
Shall not be racist if others don’t believe.

Then let us have some space
So that children can grow grace.

And let us have some time
So that children can grow old and die.

And let us have many events
So that history can read at lengths.

And let us forge up wars
So that children can compete for ores.

And let us give men the act of fornication
So that in carnal love,
Two can make a single identification.

And let us give men my will to hate,
So that in overpopulation,
A man may kill his mate.

And let us give to every man a unique mind,
So that We have creatures of all kind.

And let us give each man the right to be
Within himself just always truly right,
So that evil and good he’ll sure can
See relative another man.

And let us make a pattern to the world,
And let a man know that he lives,
When from this pattern he divests.

And let us make a pattern to the world
And may a man by Darwin be,
If he not wakes to use the Choice that’s up his-

Now let us put practical use to this new world
And let us find out what we are and seem
In the eyes of human kind.

Then let us each be random men born to the world
And let us now forget the beings that we’ve been.

And when we realise, as men,
That Choice is right in front of Us,
And Darwin’s law is an illusion…

…Then we shall be unlimited
By the Universe’ arrangements…

…And then immediately
Will our minds to this instant recall.

And we shall continue to converse,
With knowledge of what to others we represent.

Then so be it my friend.
Let us trust our eternal reoccurrence
To the fragile minds of men.

Alas, I must concur.
Alas, I shall be born.