Four dictates the answer to life and the utter feeble quakes that ascertains questions provoked at the cost of a returned death. Long-term refunds with no shortage of interest, paved towards the path of suffering. The path of pain, as arduous credibility dictated the cost of a life lived in full. Not only did mankind realize over time, that the interest culminated so severely, the tragedy of a life ending only seemed to lighten the load of a destiny formulated in consciousness that started long before you and I. Before the cosmos’s grand centrifuge spun and span turmoil in the breath of every being destined to suffer at the hands of thought. Moral objectivity became echos, and the stubbed toe or the sprained ankle breathed only tangibility to the sought pain. The only aspect of life to validate a soul, whose fate was left undetermined. Whose destiny was unpaved, and unprovoked.
Cries radiated throughout the universe, and the well has been leaking in the forms of ultraviolet rays, as warmth nourished while taking the only source of light that scattered stardust into every being.
Then too, even they knew there was no pathway to happiness without the payment of pain. Egos stroked kindly with gestures to overcome adversity.
Found here was a lesson that echoed across every breeze, galactic or otherwise. The lightyears seemingly wasted spent to reach the goal of the treaty of existence; yet mankind still heard even when the source was not seen to create this ear-aching delightful hum.
The tribal formulations were founded.
Mankind, caught on.
This too, is good.
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